


Spacewalker

by ohsusie



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Angst, Berlin (City), Drug Addiction, Love, Multi, Partying, Past Child Abuse, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Content, Underage Prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 19:19:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 36,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9562928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohsusie/pseuds/ohsusie
Summary: Addiction is terrifying. Not even love can save you."I mostly think about killing myself and sex.""And drugs?""And drugs."//Or: Isak just needs to feel alive. It doesn't matter how, and it doesn't matter if it hurts.//Set in 70s West Berlin. Inspired by Wir Kinder vom Bahnhof Zoo.





	1. The Truth Is

**Author's Note:**

> Only Jonas and Isak will appear in the first chapter, but don't worry, the others appear in the second chapter! <3

Life is boring. Year after year passes by and every December 31st you think 'this is going to be my year'. But it's never going to be your year. You may get a new job, but your husband will divorce you. You may go to Greece for two months, but you get kicked out of your apartment for not paying your rent. If you're lucky, your year might work out just fine a good majority of the time, but you'll still have rough spots. 

Isak's entire life is a rough spot. He is a rough spot in his mother's life. He's not really sure what he's even living for. Maybe if his father hadn't hit him so much when he was younger, it would all be fine now. Maybe if his mother would care more about him then she cares about her boyfriends and her beauty, it would all be fine.

But it's not fine. It's not fine when he goes to bed all alone because his sister just left them to live at their father's place instead, and it's not fine when he wakes up all alone, his stomach empty and the fridge even emptier. And when he goes to school it's even worse, because no one will care if he gets good grades or if he fails everything. Jonas says he'd be glad to be in Isak's situation, but he wouldn't. His mom loves him and feeds him and gives him praise if he does something well. She works night, though, so Jonas can do whatever he wants after 10 PM. Isak's mom? Well, he's happy if she gets home before 3 AM after a night of partying and sleeping around. 

The best days are when she stays at home during the entire evening and cooks with him and they laugh and dance together, but he knows there always is a catch. She's either leaving for the weekend the next day, or she's bringing home a date. 

This evening is no exception. She was so happy when she came home and Isak was happy as well and when she said 'let's cook something together' he was even happier. But he's not happy anymore, because the doorbell rings and his mom leaves the kitchen and the next thing he hears is:

"Marianne! You look lovely!"

And he wants to throw up. His mom does look lovely, but Isak can tell her that himself. He doesn't need a stranger telling her how beautiful she is, just so he can sleep with her later. When the man comes into the kitchen, Isak ducks away, avoiding his eyes, but the man walks up to him anyways, introduces himself as Martin, gives him a one-armed hug, and then leaves him again, to go to his mom.

"When will the dinner be ready, Isak?" his mom asks, like he's some sort of slave who has to do everything. He shrugs and takes a look at the chicken in the oven. 

"Ten minutes probably."

He calls Jonas three minutes later, really not giving a fuck about how the chicken will turn out. Jonas has told him so many times about the new Discotheque in town, Disco Galaxy, but Isak has always been hesitant to go, in case his mom would come home drunk and he'd need to take care of her. But tonight, he doesn't care. Tonight, she has Martin, who's going to hurt her just as much as the other guys, but who she still thinks is different.

"Hello?" Jonas answers after four beeps, and Isak has never been so relieved to hear his voice before. 

"Are you going to Galaxy tonight?" Isak asks, sounding so pathetically desperate. 

"I don't know, man. My mom almost caught me last time. Do you want to go?"

"Shit, Jonas, I can't handle her anymore. There's a new-," he interrupts himself when he imagines hearing steps coming from the hallway, but keeps going when he sees that no one is coming, "-a new fucking guy tonight as well and I just don't want to be here anymore."

"Alright, uh, meet me at Bismarckstraße in 45, we'll go to Zoologischer together."

"Why are you whispering?"

"My mom's still home. See you, bye."

Shit. What will he wear? He's never been to a disco before. Is he supposed to wear nice clothes, or average, or trashy? Well, he doesn't really have any nice clothes, so average will have to do. After a lot of going through his wardrobe, he decides on a pair of light-blue bootcuts, a white sweater, and black puma sneakers. 

There's a weird smell coming from the kitchen and it's first when he sees the grey smoke that he realizes it smells burnt. Ah well. They deserve to have their chicken burnt when they act like Isak is supposed to do everything for them.

"Isak!" his mom yells, but he can't bother to answer. It doesn't matter, "What the fuck, Isak?! Why did you burn the food?"

Isak sighs and walks out of his bedroom, avoiding the kitchen by going straight to the hallway. His mom's wallet is just lying there on the small table, and he can't help himself from taking 60 D-mark from it.

"I'm going out!" he yells, putting on his black suede jacket.

"What are you going to do?" his mom asks, not even going out of the kitchen to see him.

"I'm meeting Jonas."

"Okay." And that's it. Isak wants to cry. Why can't she ever care about him? 

"You're not even gonna-" he sighs and opens the door, "Whatever. Bye."

It's dark outside, except for the dim street lights on the sidewalk. He doesn't really live in one of the liveliest areas in Berlin, and while the calmness is nice most of the time, it's so, so boring sometimes. Like when he really wants to do something to get away from all of his loneliness, but he doesn't want to go anywhere with the subway. 

The people in his area are nice, though. They always greet each other when they meet on the street, and Isak never has to be scared of someone attacking him. Or, there used to be one guy who attacked everyone he met, but he's in jail for robbing a liquor store nowadays. 

The subway station's completely empty. There's usually some hobos drinking there, or a gang of teens yelling and playing music, but not tonight. Tonight, Isak's the only one there, and as he sits on one of the benches, waiting for the train to arrive, he feels so incredibly alone. He knows he's meeting up with Jonas in just fifteen, but not even that makes him feel better.

Everything's just so dark and grey all the time. Before, he felt warm everytime he saw Jonas, felt like every color became more vibrant when he was close. He doesn't know when that ended, when he stopped smiling everytime he saw his best friend. Every sound hurts Isak's ears, every color's so dull and it seems like he never can find the words to explain his pain to anyone. 

When the yellow train arrives, a cold breeze hits Isak's face and it brings him back to reality, to the fact that he's going to a discotheque for the first time in his life. Maybe that can make him feel alive again. 

The train isn't as empty as the station, but there's still only four people in the same section as him. A girl, probably in her early 20s, with red hair and a long, brown coat matched with her black boots, two guys with adidas tracksuits, and a girl in his age with blonde hair to her shoulders and a raincoat with flowers on it.

The windows have graffiti all over them and with the light being so dim and yellow, you can barely see the dirt on the floor. Isak hasn't ridden the subway alone in the evening before, and it's a completely different atmosphere there now then it is at two in the afternoon.

In the afternoon, the train is completely full. Everyone's so stressed and they just want to get home to their families and they're tired from work and school. In the evening, the only people who are there are the ones who don't have anywhere else to be. People who are tired of their families, or who just want to get away. 

After fifteen minutes, he's finally at Bismarckstraße. When he can't see Jonas immediately, he feels like he's going to panic. Everything blurs in front of him, all the people melt into one and he has no idea whatsoever where to go. He's about to hop on a train back home, but then he feels someone hop onto his back.

"What the fuck?" he asks, elbowing the person. 

"Ow, Isak" the person says, and Isak hears that it's Jonas, "Are you not happy to see me?"

"I can't see you, idiot" Isak mutters, shoving Jonas off of his back, "You scared me."

Jonas laughs and makes Isak turn around before throwing his arms around him, hugging him hard. Although Isak doesn't feel as warm when he sees Jonas anymore, he still gets so much happier whenever he hugs him, and he happily hugs him back. 

"Everything okay?" Jonas asks, ruffling his hair, "You good?"

"Yeah, yeah. It's fine now." Jonas nods and smiles, and when he sees the train arriving, he pulls Isak towards it. 

Everyone else on the platform seem to get on that train as well, but they still manage to get seats, instead of having to stand up the entire way to Zoologischer Garten. Jonas looks so calm, like he has everything figured out. And maybe he has, with some help from the vodka bottle in his hand. Maybe he's realized that life is going to end anyways, so why not completely flip out while you actually can?

"Did you fight with her?" Jonas asks, his eyes trained on Isak's shaking hands, "C'mon, drink a little bit. It'll calm you down."

"Nothing matters" Isak mumbles, leaning his head on the window, "Does it? We're all-," he takes a quick swig when Jonas hands him the bottle, "-we're all going to die anyways. She doesn't matter. Her boyfriend doesn't matter. Hell, I don't matter. I could die right now, nothing would change."

Jonas sighs and shakes his head, but he knows it's true. Isak can see that. Jonas is clever, he knows that if Isak died, maybe his world would stop spinning, but no one else's would. The supermarket at the corner of the house he lives in would still have a running business, the neighbor next door would still go out with his dog, the ticket-man at the subway station would only sell one less ticket a day. 

"Don't be like that" he says and runs a hand through his own hair, "We're going to fucking party tonight and I don't want you thinking of your mom, or death. Just, let life take you wherever it wants to take you. If it takes you home again, then that's fine, and if it takes you to-, fuck, I don't know, Switzerland, then that's fine, too. Just chill. Let it be."

Isak nods. He's probably right. Jonas is always right. Doesn't mean it doesn't freak him out, though. People have told him so many times to just relax, let it go, stop being so uptight and nervous, but it's scary. He always, always has control over everything, and it's been like that since he was just a child. He knew exactly what made his dad angry and he made sure that neither he, his sister, nor his mom did those things. It's like he hasn't even understood that he doesn't have to be afraid anymore, because even if his mom doesn't take care of him, she doesn't hurt him either.

Station after station passes by and the closer they get to Bahnhof Zoo, the more nervous he gets. He doesn't know what it's like on discos, he doesn't know how he's supposed to act and what he should say. Sometimes, he really wishes he could be like Jonas, be able to talk to anyone, not be scared of what other people think all the time. 

"This is our stop" Jonas suddenly says, pulling on Isak's arm, "Let's go."

And this subway station is probably the ugliest Isak has ever been in. Teenagers, both younger and older than him, are either sitting or lying on the ground and they literally look like they're dying. It's like Jonas can see how uncomfortable Isak is, because he grabs his hand and makes him keep walking. 

"Don't worry" he murmurs, "They're not gonna hurt you or anything. They can barely walk. They're practically zombies."

"Where's the disco?"

"Just a five minute walk away."

Isak really doesn't know what to think. He can barely imagine being so gone that all you can do is lie on the ground in a goddamn subway station. But he's not supposed to think about tonight. He's not supposed to think about anything that makes him uncomfortable or upset tonight.

"Let's party!" he yells, jumping up on Jonas's back. Jonas just laughs and gives him the vodka bottle again, and Isak chugs and chugs until he feels lightheaded.

What he doesn't realize, though, is that the people on the ground started out just like him. Running away.


	2. Galaxy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometime during the night, he gets dragged into the toilets, by some guy with eyeliner who says his name is Chris. The lighting is like the one in hospitals, a bright mix between yellow and white, and two of the three mirrors are shattered. The walls separating the different booths from each other are covered in different kinds of stains and black graffiti letters, and frankly, it's disgusting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly, i've written one chapter and i already think it's hard to continue haha, anyways here's wonderwall

It seems like everyone in the club knows Jonas. The guy who sells the tickets even has a special handshake with him, and literally every person who walks past them greets him with a large smile. Jonas looks so at home here, like this is where he belongs, in the dense cigarette smoke and with the thick smell of sex and sweat surrounding him.

The music is so loud and Isak's body vibrates with the bass and he loves it. Jonas introduces him to some people, he can barely see them or hear their names but it doesn't matter because he's here and he's free and the DJ is playing David Bowie. 

Isak's drunk, his head's swimming and all the flickering lights turn into one, single, multicolored light blinking erratically. No matter how stumbling his steps are and how slurred his speech is, he's never been happier and his heart feels like it will pound out of his chest. 

Isak has never liked people that much, but now, when he finds himself in the middle of hundreds of them, he never wants to leave. He's not even scared about Jonas not being there next to him, not even scared when he realizes that he really has no idea who these people are. 

Sometime during the night, he gets dragged into the toilets, by some guy with eyeliner who says his name is Chris. The lighting is like the one in hospitals, a bright mix between yellow and white, and two of the three mirrors are shattered. The walls separating the different booths from each other are covered in different kinds of stains and black graffiti letters, and frankly, it's disgusting. 

Isak can't bother to think about it, though, because Chris is touching him and kissing his cheek and playing with his hair, and if Isak wasn't so drunk, he'd probably try to get away as soon as possible. But he stays, and touches Chris back. 

And when Chris asks if he wants to meet his best friend, Isak nods, and then a pill is being pushed into his mouth. Isak's not stupid, he's really not, but Chris's smile is so pretty and he looks so happy, and Isak wants to be as happy as him. So he swallows it. Everything feels the same, though. His head is still fuzzy and he still shivers everytime Chris touches a new spot on his body. 

"What was it?" Isak manages to ask, and Chris just grins. 

"Don't worry."

Chris drags him down to the yellow, tiled floor and pulls him up on his lap. Isak can only stare at him, at his smudged eyeliner and his messy hair, at his eyes which almost consist of only black, endless pupils. He looks like a god, and Isak can barely believe that he's here with him. 

"How old are you?" the god in front of him asks, and Isak gets warm just from hearing his voice. 

"Seventeen" Isak whispers, and he doesn't know why he's lying, why he tells him he's two years older than he is, because even if Chris is high as a kite, he can see right through him. 

"I'm seventeen" Chris says, grinning, with his eyes half closed, "Tell me the truth."

But Isak can't seem to find the words anymore, his tongue feels numb and all he wants to do is kiss Chris again and again, over and over. And when he gets lifted off of his lap and a girl starts making out with Chris, he wants to kiss her as well. 

For several minutes, he just sits there and watches them, so mesmerized by the way the girl does whatever she wants to Chris, by the way he so desperately kisses her back. He feels like he's in love with both of them. Her red, long hair follows every move she makes and Isak wants to touch it so badly. So he does. 

It's glossy and slippery, but still incredibly soft. He can't tell if it's dyed or if it's her natural hair color, but the red reminds him of the sunsets in Köln, poppies, and his little sister's favorite blanket. It smells like a mix of peach and baby powder and it's a bit strange, but he moves closer and buries his face in it anyways. 

"Is he high?" he can hear the girl laugh, but he doesn't care because it feels so, so smooth against his nose and lips. Then, she's turning around, though, and the hair suddenly disappears, "Your pupils are fucking huge" she says, staring into Isak's eyes. 

When she laughs again, he smiles so big, his face almost splits into two, and small giggles bubble up. She's wearing a pair of high-waisted bootcut jeans and a black T-shirt with David Bowie's face on it, and when Isak sees it, he loves her even more. 

"We can be heroes" he says, and runs his fingers over the printed fabric, looking up at her with admiring eyes.

"Just for one day" she fills in, running her hands through Isak's dirty blonde curls, "You're prettier than every single girl I know."

Isak's too caught up in staring at her to smile, and when she pulls him up from the floor, he follows her like a puppet. He'll probably do anything she asks. They start walking towards the dance floor again, and Chris is right in the middle, holding both of them around the waist. 

He's never been this in love before, and he doesn't even know exactly what he's in love with. If it's the disco, or Chris and the girl, or if he's in love with the feeling of love. 

"What's your name?" he yells over the music, and the girl turns back to look at him. 

"Eva," she answers, "yours?"

"Isak" he says, and she's nodding like she already knew before asking. 

The DJ is playing some sort of pop Isak has never heard before, but he still dances to it like it's his favorite song because everyone else is so happy and it makes him even happier. This time, he can separate the different kinds of light from each other. The pink one from the green one, and the red from the blue one, and it's beautiful because they make the room look like a waving pride flag. 

He can also separate every single touch from every single person in there, can feel Chris's hand on his back and Eva's hair on his shoulder or a stranger's arm flinging into his side. It all feels so good, and if he didn't want do dance so bad, he'd be lying in a heap of pleasure on the floor. 

Jonas is suddenly there next to him again, looking so incredibly pretty with his dark curls and bushy eyebrows and his shirt drenched in sweat. Isak wants to hold his hand. He wants to make out with him and taste him and feel him everywhere.

"What did you take?" Jonas yells, and Isak can just laugh because he has no idea whatsoever, he doesn't even know any drugs besides from weed and heroin. 

"I don't know, man!" he answers, grinning, "I feel amazing!"

"Bro!" Jonas cheers and throws an arm over Isak's shoulders, "Fucking great!"

They jump and dance and scream together, Isak's mom and sister long forgotten, and the teenagers in the subway station completely erased from Isak's mind. There's always someone touching him or holding him and he doesn't even feel uncomfortable. He just feels the need to touch them back and hook up with them. Which he almost does, if frenching counts. 

Twenty minutes later, Jonas disappears again, and Isak notices that Chris and Eva are gone as well. It makes him a little bit worried, but as soon as the first wave of worry hits him, he hears it. They're playing David Bowie, like they did when Isak and Jonas arrived. 

He's flying. He's one hundred percent sure he's actually flying right now. He can't feel his legs anymore and everything's spinning around him and it just makes it all even better. Someone besides him is holding his hand but Isak's too gone to even see if it's a boy or a girl. He doesn't pull away, though, because he loves the touch, it makes him feel warm and aroused. 

And dizzy. So fucking dizzy. Even with his mind being foggy, he actually understands that if he doesn't get to sit down soon, he'll pass out. He doesn't know where the exit is, though, and he looks over at the stranger next to him to see if they can help him. If he uses all of the focus he can gather, he's actually able to make out the fact that it's a tall stranger, with very big hands. 

"Excuse me?" Isak asks, involuntarily stumbling into the stranger when someone pushes him, "I-, will you-," his speech is so slurred, he can barely understand it himself, "I'm dizzy."

The stranger wraps an arm around Isak's waist and Isak moans. He fucking moans, and he can't even be ashamed of it. Seemingly alarmed by the reaction, the stranger lets him go, but Isak just whines "No!", and they grab him again. 

After a bit of excusing and a lot of almost toppling over, Isak can finally feel the cold air against his face, and he slumps against the stranger, his legs completely giving out under him. 

"Shit, you're warm" the stranger says, and the dark voice tells Isak it's a guy, "Sit down."

It's not like he can stand up, not when the guy moves away and leaves Isak for dead. Okay, not really for dead, but he lets him fall to the ground and hit his head on the red brick wall behind him. 

"Asshole" Isak groans. Since his legs are completely incapable of doing anything useful, he stays there, leaning against the cold wall. He already misses someone touching him, and even though he's so warm he's burning up, he feels cold because he's sitting there on the ground, all alone. 

Until the stranger comes back, that is. Because when he comes back, he takes Isak in his arms and pushes something against his lips. Thinking it's another pill, Isak gladly accepts it, but then he realizes that it's a water bottle. 

"Are you on E?" the guy asks, expecting an answer even when he sees that Isak is busy with drinking the stupid water.

Isak can't do much but swallow all the liquid until the guy takes the bottle away from him. He's drawing small circles on Isak's cheekbone with his thumb, and Isak would fall asleep if his body wasn't vibrating with everything going on, the drugs and alcohol in his system, the music he can hear in the back of his brain, the fact that he's made out with at least four people. 

"I feel-," Isak swallows a small moan when the guy accidentally brushes his fingers over his lips, "-so fucking good. I-, I think I love you."

"You don't even know my name" the stranger says, and when Isak looks up at him quizzically, he smiles, "It's Even."

"I love you, Even."

Even has blond hair, shorter than Isak's, and his eyes are a mix between baby blue and ocean green. He's wearing a black T-shirt with a white collar and a light blue jeans jacket over it, and he looks even better than Chris. Even if he looks like a mess, and even if he's paler than the dirty white mortar between the bricks behind him. 

He looks like the guys Isak always sees hanging out around Kurfürstendamm, the ones who look like they're a little bit too poor to be able to shop at any of the stores there, but who still melt into the scenery like the trees next to them. 

"What's E?" Isak asks, all of a sudden very worried about what's circulating in his blood, "Is it bad?"

Even laughs, and maybe it's bit of a sad laugh. He pulls up Isak a bit closer to him, so his upper body is leaning on Even's chest, and kisses his forehead, then his hair. 

"It's not good" he murmurs against the curls, "But it's not H."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u so much for reading, please leave comments/kudos <3<3  
> in wir kinder christiane lived in gropiusstadt but I like to imagine isak living in a nicer, richer neighborhood haha


	3. Alphabet Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "My angel" Jonas whispers, "Always my angel."
> 
> "Mhm. My sunshine."
> 
> Then, Jonas is asleep, deep breaths puffing against Isak's naked shoulder. He's beautiful when he sleeps, with those long eyelashes brushing against the dark circles under his eyes and his mouth half open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahaha this is such a drama-less chapter hahahaha i'm sorry i just like isak and jonas being soft with each other

When they're sitting on the train home, the pleasure is completely gone and all that's left is Isak's heart beating like crazy and his skin feeling like it'll burn until he consists only of skeleton and muscles. Everything hurts and while he wants to stay still so that everything can go away, he feels so, so restless and can't help jiggling his leg or standing up and then sitting down again, or even kicking the seat in front of him.

Jonas doesn't seem to have that problem, continuously falling asleep and waking up again, his head lulling a bit from side to side. He's snoring, and Isak finds himself so annoyed at the sound that he can't relax, so he punches Jonas's arm in hopes of him waking up. 

"Whaa?" Jonas asks, opening his eyes a little bit, "What is it?"

"Be quiet!" Isak yells, standing up in exasperation, "Just, please, shut the fuck up!"

His clothes are uncomfortable, rough against his skin, and he wants to take his stiff jeans off and just go to bed with his softest pajamas. He doesn't even like it when Jonas grabs his hand to pull him back to his seat, it's too warm and the grip is too firm. 

"Relax" Jonas drawls, letting go of his hand without protest when Isak almost hits him, "Sit down."

The only thing Jonas is allowed to touch is Isak's hair, and he obviously takes full advantage of that as they ride the train in silence after Isak's little outburst, softly running his fingers through it as Isak squirms and whines with agitation. Everytime Isak makes a sudden move, not being able to control himself with all the restlessness in his body, Jonas just pulls him against his chest and hums until Isak is breathing smoothly again. 

"Should've started with weed" Jonas whispers, half asleep once again, "Just like everyone else. Stupid boy."

The female speaker voice tells them the next station is Bismarckstraße. Isak stands up again, so relieved to be able to let his legs move, and then he pulls Jonas, who's barely even breathing, up from his seat and drags him to the sliding doors. 

When they left the club, Jonas begged Isak to let him sleep at his place, and really, how would Isak be able to deny his best friend that? He kind of regrets it now, though, with having to carry almost all of Jonas's weight and all that. 

"We just have to go to Blissestraße now" Isak says, suddenly the one who's doing the comforting, because Jonas is incredibly tired and grumpy. 

Usually, yellow makes Isak happy. It's the color of the sun and dandelions and sunflowers. But at 5 AM, though, in an ugly, smelly subway station, yellow isn't so beautiful anymore. It's the color of his mom's teeth after smoking for too many years, Jonas's skin when he's used an extra bad drug, and piss. 

He just really hates subway stations. They make him feel like shit, and he doesn't even know why. Maybe it's because people keep passing by, because they hurry to places they need to be in, but Isak's never needed enough somewhere to have to hurry to get there on time. Or maybe it's because he realizes how indistinctive he is. Because he just starts thinking about death again, how nothing would change if he died. 

He loves his city, though. Loves going to Halensee to swim and sunbathe during the summer, loves the sun shining on the green and blue buildings, the red and white cars always stuck in traffic jams. And when he's bored, Jonas takes him to Grunewald and they eat cookies and feed the ducks with what's left when they're too full to eat anything more.

Their train arrives five minutes later. It's yellow as well, but with a red stripe in the middle. Not red as Eva's hair, but red as the sink in school when Jonas got a nosebleed after snorting too much. 

It just takes the train ten minutes to get to Blissestraße, and in those ten minutes, Jonas dozes off four times, Isak is close to punching Jonas countless times for his snoring, and a conductor comes to check their tickets. 

If there's anything Isak loves more than Berlin, it's Berlin in the morning. Wilmersdorf, where he lives, isn't anything special, but when the morning sun is shining, lighting up the beige buildings and the green leaves on the tall trees, it's beautiful. It's completely quiet, as well, except for the occasional dog barks and souped up car engines starting. 

His mom isn't home, he can feel it already before they enter his apartment. She probably left it to go to her new boyfriend's house when she realized that the smoke from the burnt chicken made the entire place smell like shit. 

The curtains aren't closed, the windows letting the sun into the messy flat. The dust, which the place is full of, is only visible in the places the sun rays hit. Suddenly, Jonas is right in front of him, smiling and looking at him like he's god or something. 

"You look like an angel" he says, "Your hair is glowing like a halo."

Isak just shakes his head and drags Jonas into the bedroom, at first undressing himself until he's only in underwear, and then helping Jonas undress as well. After they crawl under the covers, Jonas cuddles up to his side and kisses his cheek, pretty much asleep already. 

"My angel" Jonas whispers, "Always my angel."

"Mhm. My sunshine."

Then, Jonas is asleep, deep breaths puffing against Isak's naked shoulder. He's beautiful when he sleeps, with those long eyelashes brushing against the dark circles under his eyes and his mouth half open.

It's so warm under the thick comforter and for the first time during the night, it doesn't bother him. He still can't sleep, but it doesn't matter. He loves just lying there with Jonas. 

Although most of the night is a blur, there are still some things Isak can remember. He can remember David Bowie and sitting on Chris's lap, he can remember Eva's hair and beautiful face, the pleasure he got from everyone touching him. And Even. After Isak managed to chase away the dizziness and confusion, they went back in the disco and danced together, and Isak didn't want to let go of him, even when Even had to leave.

Even was so fucking hot. He was incredibly tall and had a jawline so sharp he could cut through steel with it. He didn't want to kiss Isak, though, and while Isak didn't think of it during the disco because his head was already so full of impressions, now, lying in bed with his thoughts as only company, he can't help wondering why Even refused to let Isak make out with him.

Maybe he doesn't even like guys. But he seemed so interested in him. Maybe he just thought Isak was an annoying kid who didn't know how to handle drugs. Which he does, he knows how to handle it, he actually thinks he did a great job at it. 

Kissing Even would be really nice, though. He has such big lips and he would probably eat Isak's lips whole, but it would feel so good anyways because Even is confident and sexy and he'd let Isak be submissive. His lips would feel even better on the rest of Isak's body, though. 

Isak quickly checks if Jonas is deep asleep, which he is, and then he slips a hand down his underwear. He's already half hard from thinking about Even, although he can't help feeling guilty because Jonas is right there next to him, looking like a sleeping child. Even is so hot, though, Isak can't help it. 

Under his bed, he has a stash of forbidden magazines, and while his mom would understand if it was the regular Playboy, she would be furious if she saw what kinds of magazines he really has. With guys, dressed in leather or nothing at all, who all have sixpacks and pretty lips and huge dicks. Isak doesn't even have to bring out the magazines to be able to fantasize about Even being one of those guys.

It gets him off in just a couple of minutes, quick enough to make him embarrassed, and he sprints to the bathroom to clean himself of all the remains of his orgasm. Then, he stays there for he doesn't know how long, staring at himself through the mirror. He looks strange, in some way. He can't place what the difference is, though. Maybe he looks different now that he's not as innocent anymore.

The first person he ever made out with was a stranger at the club. It wasn't Chris, because he came after, but it was someone with a buzzed head and a leather jacket. After that person, there were at least four others. Isak can't even bring himself to be ashamed of that, he's rather proud actually. He's got game. 

When he gets back to his bedroom, Jonas is awake, gazing at the doorway with half-lidded eyes. He smiles when he sees Isak, and Isak comes to lie down next to him once again, letting his hand rest on Jonas's waist. 

"Why aren't you sleeping?" he asks, kissing his forehead, and Jonas shakes his head. 

"I'm not tired anymore." His yawn contradicts him, though, but his smile is still there when he starts talking again, "You look happy. It's nice."

"Do you know Even?" Isak has to ask, looking at Jonas like this is the most important thing in the world (which it kind of is).

"Everyone knows Even, silly" Jonas answers, "He's always at Galaxy. At night, at least. Otherwise, he's at Potsdamer or Bahnhof Zoo. I don't think he has a family at all."

"Really?"

"Yeah, or, at least here in west. Eva told me he's from the east side and that he got here when he was ten or something, but I don't know."

Eastern Berlin. Isak has never been there, he was born one year after the wall was built. When his dad wasn't drunk, he used to tell Isak about how it was before the wall, how you could move freely from side to side, and how you barely even thought about the fact that there was an east and a west. He said the east had the coolest and biggest buildings and it was there they went when they wanted to party. 

Nowadays, the only thing he hears about it is about the dictatorship, about the identical buildings and the colorless environment. He thought it was impossible to cross the wall, but apparently not. Even is living proof.

"He's a mess, though" Jonas mutters, pulling the comforter up even higher, so the only thing visible of him are his curls, "I think he's done every single drug there is. A's, B's, C's, D's, E's-"

"I get it, thanks."

"I'm just saying. Be careful with him."

Then, he turns around and falls asleep once again. Isak feels like he won't be able to sleep for days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading <3<3


	4. Oh You Pretty Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're beautiful" Even sighs, pulling Isak out of his train of thought "Shit, you're gorgeous."
> 
> "Jonas says you're a mess" Isak blurts out without thinking, guilt immediately settling deep in his stomach, "Sorry."

They don't go to school that day. Instead, they stay in bed until 1 AM and then Jonas makes Isak go to the nearest bakery to get carrot cake for them. At 3 PM, his mom calls from a phone booth to tell him she won't come home until tomorrow because her date took her to Hamburg. For the first time in his life, Isak doesn't mind. 

Instead, he just plops down on the couch and continues watching Charlie's Angels with Jonas. Even though he insists he doesn't even like the show, Isak knows he does because why else would he voluntarily put it on?

"Can we go tonight?" Isak asks, Jonas giving him a strange look like he doesn't understand what he means, "To Galaxy."

Jonas frowns and takes another bite of his carrot cake, then he shakes his head, "No."

"Why?" 

"Because-" he sighs and shakes his head, "-you'll get hooked. You'll get addicted. And I don't want you hanging out with those people."

Those people? Jonas's friends? He doesn't want Isak hanging around his friends? And it's not like he can talk about addiction, not when he can't go one day without smoking weed or whatever he puts in those damn joints. 

"You're a dick, Jonas."

"I just worry about you, angel."

Jonas says they can go if Isak promises him he won't leave his side during the night and if he promises he won't take anything. Isak does, swears on his life he'll be careful. So when the clock hits 10 PM, they leave to go to the subway station. 

-

Isak breaks the first promise as soon as they get to the disco, following someone into the bathroom. At first, he thinks it's Chris, but then he realizes it's Chris's friend from last night. Not the girl, but the guy he danced with when Isak came back inside with Even. 

He's not as hot as Chris, and he has a crooked nose, but Isak happily straddles him on the toilet lid anyways and kisses him with all he's got. His hands are fucking everywhere, in Isak's hair, under his shirt, around his neck, but Isak is too shitfaced to care. He and Jonas downed a Jägermeister on their way there, and now he barely knows what's going on. He really can't handle his alcohol. 

"You're so good" the guy grunts, cupping his ass and shoving his tongue into Isak's mouth, "You feel so good, making me so hard."

Isak hums, although it sounds more like a whimper, and wraps his legs around his waist, hooking his feet together so they'll stay there. His head is spinning and his hands tremble as he grabs the guy's shoulders to steady himself. 

The stranger takes a firm grip on Isak's hips instead and makes him grind down harder. Another whimper bubbles up, but it's swallowed by the guy's mouth and it allows him to be even louder. So he whines and mewls and moans while the guy pulls him closer and closer. 

"I heard Chris gave you drugs" the stranger states after pulling away, "It was Molly, wasn't it? He only gives Molly to the prettiest ones."

"I don't know" Isak gasps, because he really has no idea what it was, "I don't-, it just felt so-" another whimper, "so good."

"I know something that feels even better" the guy murmurs in Isak's ear, ducking away everytime Isak tries to kiss him again, "Heroin."

But somewhere in the back of his head, even though it's blurry, he knows that he's supposed to say no to heroin. It's dangerous and it's bad for you and you'll get so addicted it's the only thing you'll care about. So he shakes his head and keeps trying to kiss him. 

Someone slams the door to one of the toilet booths and Isak jerks from the sudden bang, accidentally pulling the guy's dark hair a little bit too hard. He apologizes by grinding down harder on him and staying there, pressing down against the guy's crotch.

"Ah, baby" he groans, biting down on Isak's neck, "I'll let you have a fix if you give me a handjob."

Then, someone lifts Isak off of the guy's lap and holds him against their chest. It feels firm behind him, like it's a guy's chest, and Isak just wants to turn around to see who it is. He can't, though, being held in place by a pair of strong arms. 

"What the fuck?" the guy Isak was just grinding on asks, "He's mine."

And although Isak's drunk out of his mind, he's so so hard and just wants to sit down on his lap again and hump him until he comes. He squirms in the stranger's grip, until it finally loosens and he can turn around to see who it is. And his heart skips a beat. 

"Even!" he squeals, wrapping his arms around Even's waist, since it really is the only thing he can reach, "I missed you!"

"We met each other last night" Even chuckles, stroking Isak's hair, then turning serious and holding Isak even tighter, "William, stay the fuck away from him." Oh, so that's the stranger's name. 

"What, like he's your boyfriend?" the stranger, apparently named William, scoffs and Isak can almost feel him glaring into his back, "Your savior complex is so bad, Even."

"You're-, fuck, William, you're so incredibly selfish. Just because you're fucked up doesn't mean everyone else has to be."

He lets go of Isak's upper body and grabs his arm instead, starting to pull him out of the room with the different toilet booths. And Isak can barely stand up, let alone resist when someone drags him away, so he follows Even, awkward and stumbling.

"So you're just gonna leave me here?" William says right before they walk out the door, "I have a fucking boner!"

Isak actually feels guilty, but when he turns around to go back to William, Even stops him and leads him out to the dancefloor. It's not as fun when he's not high. He's just woozy and plastered, instead of loving and energetic. He tries, though. 

He tries to have fun, tries to dance and flip out completely, but they're not even playing David Bowie, and he's not even that happy. No one wants to make out with him, and he's not sure he wants to make out with them either. Even is right next to him, though, and Isak would want to kiss him if he wasn't one hundred percent sure he would throw up in his mouth.

Even seems to notice his discomfort, because he takes his hand and leads him out of the building, just like he did when Isak was too high. It's the opposite now; he's not high enough. He feels kind of bad for interrupting his partying two nights in a row, but at the same time he doesn't really care. Even doesn't seem to mind, either. 

They sit down on the ground together like the first time, leaning against the cold wall. Even is covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and he's wearing the same clothes as last night. He still looks good, though, and Isak blushes when he starts thinking about how he fantasized about him earlier. He's still hard from the session with William, and that makes it even more embarrassing. 

"Did he hurt you?" Even asks, stroking Isak's thigh with his right (huge, huge) hand, "I know he's not good with limits, but did he force you to do anything?"

"No" Isak shakes his head, making everything spin again in the process, "No, it felt good."

"What's wrong, then?"

He shrugs and closes his eyes to make the wave of nausea go away, and when it does, he opens them again. He can sense Even looking at him, but he's busy with looking at the sky to pay any attention to him. It looks so much darker than usual, but the stars aren't more visible. They're dim and he has to look for ages to find more than four of them. 

When he finally finds Orion's belt, he keeps his gaze there, at those three stars. His favorite stars. They shine so bright compared to the others. Out of them, his favorite is Mintaka. It's the dullest of them, and Isak has this strange idea that if he was a star, he'd be that one. Surrounded by all these amazing stars, and even if he shines as bright as he can, no one will ever pay attention to him. 

His head clears when he looks at the sky, it always does. And it feels good to finally be able to focus on something, to not have the alcohol control every single part of his brain. 

"You're beautiful" Even sighs, pulling Isak out of his train of thought "Shit, you're gorgeous."

"Jonas says you're a mess" Isak blurts out without thinking, guilt immediately settling deep in his stomach, "Sorry."

Even nods and cards a hand through his own hair, biting his lip like he's thinking of what to say, like he's never thought this hard before in his life. Isak apologizes again, but turns his gaze away so he won't have to see if Even's sad or not. 

"Do you think I'm a mess?" he asks, "Look at me, Isak. I won't be angry. Do you think I'm a mess?"

Isak does as he says and looks at him. Really looks. He's so pale, his skin's almost grey, and even though his eye color is amazing, his eyes are dim and cloudy, and his pupils are barely there. Softly, Isak grabs Even's wrist. He can circle it with his thumb and little finger, and still have room left. 

"Are you ill?" he asks, because he doesn't understand. He doesn't understand how someone can be so tiny and look so broken, but still seem so strong. Even gives him a sad smile, then shrugs. 

"I don't know. I guess. People say different things."

He starts searching in his pocket, reaching for something for half a minute until he finally finds it. And, to Isak's surprise, it's not a joint, but a meth pipe. Isak's jaw involuntarily tenses until it hurts, and he stretches out a hand, silently begging Even to give him something as well. 

"This isn't for you" Even says, shaking his head, "Don't you have some weed or something? I know Jonas does."

Shit. Jonas. He's probably so worried about Isak. He's probably angry with him as well. He'll yell at him when he finds him, and he can't be high when that happens. He's already broken one of the promises he gave Jonas, he can't break the other one as well. 

Even brings out a lighter as well and places it under the small glass bulb. Isak feels hypnotized as he watches the tiny rocks turn into white, whirling smoke. Even's put a piece of tape on the hole of the bulb, but he's probably made a tiny hole in the tape because Isak can see some of the smoke getting out of it, levitating towards the pitch-black sky. 

"Is it meth?" he asks, and Even shakes his head. 

"No. Never." He actually looks angry, and the guilt is back in Isak's stomach. He doesn't want Even to be hurt or angry or sad.

"Sorry. What is it?"

"Doesn't matter."

They sit there in silence, Isak not daring to look at Even, and Even smoking whatever's in his pipe in peace. His head's leaned against the wall and he looks like he's sleeping, but he proves he's not when he starts talking again. 

"You're supposed to use tinfoil for this. But I just drop everything when I do. My hands shake too much."

It's true. It's obvious how unsteady his hands are and it's not just trembling, Isak can see how they really are shaking, the pipe moving with every jerk of the pale, thin hand. It's strange, because the rest of him is at peace, his legs lying flat on the ground and his chest moving in an even pace with his breathing. 

Isak can't help reaching out to steady Even's hand, holding it with his own. It makes it easier for him to hold the pipe upright, makes him less stressed about dropping it to the ground. The tears in his eyes are obvious, but Isak doesn't want to say anything about it. He seems so insecure of his sadness, anyways. 

"Thank you" Even whispers after exhaling the smoke. Isak lets go of his hand again, and lets his own fall to the ground, "When I feel extra bad, I have to inject it. It's even harder."

"It's heroin, isn't it?"

Isak's heart feels like it's stopped and he just wants to get up and run away. Or stay and hold Even. He can't choose, can't even move. So he stays there, feeling paralyzed by the sudden enlightenment. Even's addicted to heroin. That's why he doesn't want Isak to take it. 

"When is it extra bad?" he asks and takes the pipe from Even, holding his hand and rubbing the back of it with his thumb.

"Whenever I'm alone."

That's when Isak remembers what Jonas said. Even's alone here, he doesn't have any family whatsoever on this side. Isak accidentally squeezes Even's hand until he winces, and then brings the pipe up to Even's mouth again, letting him inhale once more before he kisses him. 

It's not what Isak expected, but it's not worse. Even's just more submissive than he thought, letting Isak take control. His lips are just as soft as in his imagination, though, and Isak never wants to stop, never wants to let go of him. He has to, though, because suddenly, someone's yelling his name. 

"Isak!" It's Jonas. He walks towards him, stomping at every step, and when he stands right in front of him, he grabs the pipe and throws it at the ground before stepping on it, "What the fuck is wrong with you? What did I say about Even? And drugs? What the fuck, Isak?!" 

Even visibly winces when the glass cracks, and it's so clear how close he is to crying. Isak wants to scream at Jonas, wants to tell him to fuck off, but he can't. Because he can't be without him, won't even be able to get home without him.

"Meet me tomorrow, okay?" Isak whispers as Jonas starts pulling at his arm, swearing at him, "Hauptbahnhof at 2."

The last thing he sees before Jonas drags him away is Even sobbing into his sleeve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do u know how much google translate I have to use for this...also i feel like a shit writer compared to everyone else on here haha oops  
> anyways thanks for reading <3<3


	5. Further

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Tell me the truth."
> 
> "It hurts so fucking much."

There's a lot of yelling. That's all Isak manages to take in. Jonas is yelling at him and he's yelling back, his pitch so high he's almost screaming. He's been yelling since they got off the subway and both Isak's ears and throat hurt. Jonas keeps repeating the same thing, about danger and death and addiction. Isak keeps telling him to stop being so overprotective. 

Then, there's a lot of plates crashing against the wall and cracks of porcelain falling to the floor. It's so much, too much, and Isak has never been good at holding anger back. He throws the plates like they're frisbees and Jonas throws glasses at him like they're tennis balls.

He doesn't even know if he wants to hurt Jonas, or if he just wants to get out his anger by smashing things until they break. Jonas probably doesn't want to hurt him, either, but here they are, and they can't stop. Not when the kitchen already is a mess of shards and sharp pieces of glass and porcelain. 

The limit goes when Jonas calls him a fucking baby, though. It makes Isak so angry, so frustrated with him for treating him like he really is a child. Putting the rest of the plates on the counter, he walks up to Jonas, whose eyes are glowing with anger. Jonas puts down the glasses as well, getting ready for a real fight. Just as Isak slaps him, he punches Isak in the nose so hard he falls to the floor. 

Then, it seems like Jonas is ready to apologize. But Isak can't think of him, can't look at him, because his entire face aches and there's blood all over his hands. His nose hurts so much, he feels like he's going to throw up. He prides himself over not crying, at least. Or is he? He can't tell if the wet stuff running down his face is blood or tears. 

Jonas is fucking everywhere, in front of him, next to him, above him, and it makes Isak so frustrated that he's actually shaking, just wanting him to be still or leave him alone. He turns Isak over on his back and gentle hands wipe away the blood around his nose, but it makes it feel even worse. 

"Go away" he mumbles, pushing away Jonas's hands and turning until he's lying on his side so he can curl up again, "Just go."

When he opens his eyes, he actually thinks he's going to vomit. There's so much blood, all over him, all over Jonas's hands. Jonas looks so damn terrified, and if Isak's head wasn't spinning and his stomach wasn't turning, he'd laugh. He doesn't laugh, though. Instead, he closes his eyes again and wails. 

"Fuck" Jonas hisses, sounding like he's hyperventilating, "I'm so sorry, fuck, Isak, I'm so sorry, do you think it's broken?"

Does he really expect Isak to talk to him about how he's feeling, when he can't even sit up straight and everytime he opens his mouth, he can taste iron? He literally feels like he's dying, like he'll die from a nosebleed. What's he supposed to do if it's broken? He can't wear an ugly bandage when he meets Even. 

Fuck. Every single thought he's ever had tries to fit in his brain at the same time, and he can't calm down, not when blood is running like someone just turned a tap in Isak's nose on and Jonas is freaking out while looking in every single cupboard in the apartment. 

After what seems like forever, Jonas sits down with crossed legs and carefully lifts Isak's head up in his lap. His pants will probably forever be stained with blood, but it doesn't seem to matter to him as he dabs Isak's nose and around it with cotton balls, ignoring the squirms and whines from Isak. 

"Do you want painkillers?" he asks, wiping up the blood that's run down his neck and face with a wet towel, "I found ibuprofen."

Isak desperately nods and Jonas lifts his upper body a little bit more, so he'll be able to swallow the pills with some water. It's a bit more difficult, what with having to swallow blood as well and all, but otherwise it's fine. He's gripping Jonas's thigh so hard, he thinks it'll leave bruises, but it doesn't matter because he's still not crying. 

Everything gets a little bit hazy after that. The ache turns into a dull one, but with sharp, short pains everytime he or Jonas touches the bridge of his nose. He has no idea when he falls asleep, but he knows he's surrounded by the softness of his covers and the comfort of his teddy bear (which he only ever uses when Jonas thinks it'll make it easier for him to sleep, thank you very much). 

\----------

When he wakes up, a wave of pain strikes him and he notices he can't breathe with his nose. His hands automatically clutch the teddy bear but he can't bring it to his face because if he does, he's sure his nose will fall off. 

The sunlight is shining through the curtain, but he still whines and squints his eyes when Jonas turns the night light on. He looks so worried that Isak can't be angry, no matter how much he wants to be. He wants to be able to get up and keep yelling at Jonas and punch him, but he can't. Because he's so soft with him as he hands him two more ibuprofens and helps him sits up, then letting him lean on his chest. 

"I hate you" Isak whispers, since it's really the only thing he can do, "So much."

"That's okay" Jonas hums and cards his fingers through Isak's messy hair, "You're allowed to hate me right now." He kisses his forehead, then looks at him with the most serious look in his eyes he's ever had. "I'm so sorry if I scared you. I know-, I know how hard you think it is to have someone yell at you and I'm sorry." 

"You didn't scare me," Isak mumbles, shaking his head, because he really didn't. He could never be scared of Jonas. "I trust you." He sits up a bit straighter and rubs his eyes. "What time is it?"

"12."

They lie there for more than half an hour without talking, only breathing in and out. Isak takes a half-nap, floating between sleep and wake, and Jonas sits there with him. He's reading some book, Isak doesn't know which one it is, but it's huge and heavy and he himself would never ever want to read it.

Jonas makes him take a shower while he makes them something to eat, and even if Isak refuses at first, it feels so good with the warm water pouring down on his back. It makes his muscles loosen and as long as he avoids getting the water on his face, the pain isn't as bad anymore. 

His skin turns red from him standing in the shower for too long, but he just doesn't want to get out in the cold again. He has to, though, because suddenly he remembers that he's meeting Even soon. He quickly dries himself off and then lets Jonas change his large band-aid. It hurts and his eyes start tearing up, but Jonas is as gentle as always and it's over soon. 

When they get out to the kitchen, Isak sees that every trace of their fight is gone. The glass splinters and porcelain shards are in a big plastic bag hanging on the door handle, and the blood from Isak's poor nose is gone as well. 

He's made pancakes, and even though they're a little burnt, Isak gladly eats them anyways. They're silent there as well, and it's like Jonas is afraid of making him angry or upset because he usually always has something to say. Now, though, he only looks down at his plate. 

"I'm meeting Even today" Isak says, his voice pretty much inaudible, "At 2."

He can see Jonas's hands balling into fists, but he quickly relaxes them again and nods. He doesn't look up at Isak now either, and he doesn't say anything. 

"You're not angry?" Isak asks and Jonas shakes his head. He understands, though. He's just punched him so hard he bled all over the floor, and if he gets angry again, he knows Isak won't accept it. He knows he won't be able to control himself. 

After that, Isak spends about twenty minutes in front of the mirror, trying to decide on an outfit. Right when he's decided, Jonas comes into his room, looking so, so upset. He wraps his arms around him, like Even did in the bathroom at the discotheque, his head leaning on Isak's shoulder. 

"I'm sorry" he whispers, and Isak can feel a couple of warm tears landing on his collarbone, "I never wanted to hurt you. You know I love you, right?"

"I know. I love you too."

"And I-," he swallows and then buries his face in the crook of Isak's neck, "I'm sorry for making Even upset. I just, you were holding this meth pipe and I didn't know what to do."

Isak wants to tell him it's okay, because he hates seeing Jonas like this, but he can't speak for Even. He's already so broken and he doesn't need people talking about him like he's worthless. And the look in his eyes when the pipe was smashed made Isak's stomach hurt and his heart break. 

"I have to go now."

He turns around and hugs Jonas properly before kissing his cheek. It feels a bit strange, leaving Jonas in his apartment when he has no idea when his mom is coming home, but Jonas doesn't want to go home and Isak doesn't want to make him do anything. 

The walk to the subway station feels like it takes forever. He's so nervous about meeting Even like this, but he's more nervous that he's not even going to show up. After last night, Isak would understand him if he wouldn't want to meet him again. 

He takes an almost empty train to Bismarckstraße, and then switches to a completely full train to go to Hauptbahnhof. His wristwatch tells him it's 1:45 already, and he has to ride the train for ten more minutes. 

After the longest ten minutes Isak's ever had to endure, he's finally there. It's raining, though, and he has to cover his band-aid from the heavy raindrops. Clumsy as he is, he manages to bump his hand against his nose at every step, and it just aches more and more.

Everything's grey when it rains, and while he should feel at home in this monochrome world where nothing's complicated, nothing's ever beautiful when it's grey. You know it had color before that, before it was stripped away from its vibrancy, and it's sad. 

Then, he sees Even, and he's greyer than the world around him. It makes him stick out, in a strange way, and maybe that's why he's the only beautiful, grey thing Isak's ever seen. He looks sadder than before, and when he's right in front of Isak, he cups his face with one of those pale hands. 

"What happened to you?" he asks, examining the probably broken nose, "Did someone hurt you?"

"I just had a fight with Jonas, it's alright. How are you doing?"

"Does it hurt?" Isak shakes his head, but it does. It hurts so much, and Even probably sees it, because the worried look in his eyes doesn't disappear and he can't tear his eyes from Isak's bruised face, "Tell me the truth."

"It hurts so fucking much."

Even nods, and after a while of just standing there, looking down at the ground, he drags Isak into the station. This time, Isak can keep up, and he doesn't feel as clumsy as Even takes him to an empty corner in one of the more secluded parts of the station. 

It's dirty, and the white tiles on the wall are a mix of brown and yellow, but Even doesn't seem to care, so Isak tries to ignore it, and keeps his eyes on the beautiful boy in front of him. He looks tensed and anxious as he looks for something in his pocket, just like he did the night before with the meth pipe. 

"I don't want to give you this" he says as he brings out a bag full of capsules, "But I don't want to see you hurt, either."

"What is it?" Isak quietly asks, stretching out his hand when Even takes out two of the small capsules and hands them to him, "I thought you didn't want me to take drugs."

"Trust me, I don't. But it's just Oxynorm, and you look horrible."

"Wow, thanks."

"Seriously, though. They'll make it hurt alot less."

He doesn't think more about it, because Even says it's fine and it'll make him feel better, and that's good enough for him. He swallows it dry, and then Even sits down, letting him sit on his lap. The ibuprofen Jonas gave him has already lost its effects, and it hurts so, so much in his entire face. 

"How could he do that to you?" Even murmurs against Isak's cheek, "I thought he was supposed to love you."

He feels a sharp sting in his heart, and the lump in his throat grows bigger every second. It feels like he's going to cry at any second. Why would Jonas do that to him if he loves him? Because he was angry. Because he felt threatened by Isak. But Isak's tiny and he knows he wouldn't be able to hurt anyone physically even if he tried. 

"He thought I was going to hit him" Isak answers, his fingers clutching Even's soft shirt, "And I was angry, too. I threw plates at him. And I wanted to hurt him."

"He can't keep treating you like you're a child. You can make your own decisions, you don't need him for that."

"He loves me."

His eyes are really welling up now. Jonas loves him, doesn't he? He's just worried about him, he just wants him to stay away from drugs. When a tiny tear falls down his cheek, Even immediately wipes it away and brings him closer, wrapping his arms tighter around him. 

"Love isn't supposed to hurt."

Isak doesn't have an answer to that. He knows Even is right, knows love is only supposed to make you happy. And Jonas's love mostly does, whenever he laughs so much Isak starts laughing, as well, when he tries cooking new things even if he knows it's going to be disgusting, when he takes Isak out on adventures. But it hurts when he thinks Isak can't take care of himself, when he thinks he doesn't know what's best for him. And Isak's nose hurts because maybe, Jonas's overprotection got the best of him. 

The physical pain is slowly going away, until he can't feel his face anymore. Then the mental pain starts going away as well. The tears recede back into his eyes again and he feels how a soft cloud is taking the dark, loud thunder's place in his brain. He's still able to think, though, he just chooses to not do it. And when he closes his eyes, everything feels even softer. 

He knows he's falling asleep, but somehow, he still knows what's going around him. He knows when his head is about to slide off Even's shoulder and he can make it steady again, and he still feels every single touch of Even's fingers on his back, his arms, his legs. 

"There we go" Even says, gently rocking him, "No more pain now."

"He loves me" Isak whispers again, "He loves me, Even. I'm his angel. He loves me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter you'll get even's full backstory I promise <3<3  
> also what the fuck why did I make jonas hit him


	6. Not a chapter!!!!

do u want me to keep writing this? idk i just feel insecure about this whole story and i don't want to spend more time on writing this if people don't even like it, so please tell me if you do and i'll try to upload a new chapter as soon as possible <3<3 ily


	7. Halo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Isak. Relax, okay? I'm not made of glass, stop worrying about making me upset."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh thank u all so much for your kind comments i love u sm and i get so happy everytime i see a new comment so thank u!!!!! you're great

Isak wakes up on a moving train. His first thought is to just fall asleep again, but then panic strikes him so hard, he jumps up from his seat. He fell asleep in a subway station and now he's at a train which he has no idea where it's going. What if someone kidnapped him? What if he'll never able to come home again, what if-

Oh. Even's right next to him. Isak sits down again and takes three deep breaths to make the stress go away. His head is still a bit fuzzy, and his face doesn't hurt yet, but he's still uncomfortable because he barely knows Even and here he is, having no idea where they're going. 

"Where am I?" he asks, rubbing his eyes and leaning his head on Even's shoulder, "What time is it?"

"We're going to Grunewald" Even answers and kisses his cheek, "It's 5."

Has he really slept for at least two hours? And why are they going to Grunewald? He really wants to ask, but his tongue feels too thick right now, so he just nods and nuzzles Even's incredibly soft, yellow hoodie. His collar bones are so prominent underneath it, they kind of hurt Isak's forehead, but he's really too sleepy to care. 

"You said you wanted to go there because it makes you happy" Even explains without Isak asking, smoothing a hand over his hair, "And you said the station was disgusting."

Isak has no idea when he said that, but he's probably been nodding off all this time, asleep but still aware. He feels a bit high, and he barely pays any attention to the people around him. Instead, he looks out the window. They're close to Westkreuz, Isak can see that. 

The only things visible outside the window are trees and electricity cables, and the few houses are in grey concrete and have openings but no windows and doors. They're covered in red and dark green graffiti and they're probably homes for multiple homeless people. 

It would be terrifying to live there, though, Isak muses. Anyone could come in and rob him at anytime. Maybe that's why every homeless person is so paranoid all the time, they know someone's going to steal their shit if they get the chance. 

When they get to Westkreuz, almost everyone on the train gets off and he and Even are left alone with just five or six other people in their section. It's nice and quiet and Isak feels so sleepy and relaxed. 

"Tell me when it starts hurting again, okay?" Even asks and Isak nods, "Good. I'll give you a smaller dose so you won't sleep as much, though."

"I feel so nice" Isak mumbles, pulling his own sleeves over his hands until he has sweater paws and then curling up to Even's side, "Nothing hurts."

It's true. Nothing hurts, and he feels so relaxed everywhere. It's not raining outside, either, like the rain clouds on the sky disappeared together with the thunder in his brain. The sky isn't completely clear, but the clouds are white and fluffy and the sun is coming through the gaps, making the trees shine up in light green. 

The loud, consistent sounds of the train engine are almost lulling Isak back to sleep, but he tries to stay awake so Even won't feel too lonely. Even's playing with some sort of elastic, wrapping it around his fingers and stretching it out and snapping it. The sleeve on his right arm has ridden up a little bit, and Isak can see how bruised his wrist is. It looks like a bracelet of purple and blue marks. 

He reaches out to touch the bruises, but Even slaps his hand away and pulls down his sleeve until it's covering half his hand as well. His breathing seems to get more strained as well, and Isak doesn't really know what to do. 

"I'm sorry" he says, removing everything touching Even and angling his body away from him, "I'm not going to touch you."

"No, it's-" Even shakes his head swallows harshly, "It's okay, it's just, maybe don't touch me there."

Isak keeps his hands to himself, though, and looks out of the window at the other side of the aisle instead of the one next to Even. Why does he always make him feel so guilty? Maybe it's not Even's fault, but Isak keeps being afraid of saying something wrong, of accidentally hitting a nerve. 

The silence between isn't comfortable anymore. It's charged with questions and confusion and judgment, and Isak finds himself wanting to leave. Sure, if it wasn't for Even, his nose would still hurt like fuck, but he hates feeling like everything he does is wrong. 

After ten minutes of awkward silence, the train stops at Grunewald. It's probably the only subway station besides from Wittenbergplatz that Isak actually likes. It looks like an old english pub from the outside, with 'Grunewald' written in some medieval font, and the big clock on the upper part of the building. Also, the walls inside are not made of ugly tiles, but brown bricks. 

"I'm not angry, you know" Even says when they've walked out of the building, "You don't have to be quiet. You can talk to me."

"Okay" Isak answers, but it gets stuck in his throat and comes out as just a whisper. 

Even nods, and they start walking the path into the small forest. It's comforting to be there, with the birds being the only noise instead of cars and trams. It's extra beautiful as it is now, in May, when the trees have recently bloomed and they're bright green, and all the flowers will be alive for at least five more months. 

When looks at Even, he can see that he has bruises on his neck as well, and Isak wants to cry. He wants to hurt whoever did this to him, wants to hug him and hold him and kiss everything better. He probably can't, though. He can't simply make those marks go away, but maybe he can fix him. Make him less broken. 

He decides on not mentioning those ugly, ugly bruises, instead watching the rest of Even. His sunken in cheeks, his skinny figure and bony fingers, his beautiful, pouty lips. The lips Isak got to kiss last night. They were amazingly soft, and they made him feel so good and warm inside. He wonders how those lips would look in a genuine smile. Probably even prettier. 

"Your staring is pretty obvious."

"I'm sorry."

"You apologize an awful lot."

"I'm-"

"Isak. Relax, okay? I'm not made of glass, stop worrying about making me upset."

And Isak really wants to believe him, but he looks so frail and breakable that he can't help thinking he's actually made of thin, thin glass. Glass you can break by pushing it a bit too hard. He's not used to it. He's used to Jonas, who almost is like concrete, steady and sure and indestructible (until it comes to Isak getting hurt, then there's a hole in the concrete). 

As they walk on the wet gravel road, Even starts humming on a song Isak can't recognize. He tries to see if he can place the melody, if it's an old song his mom always listens to, or if it's one of those rock songs Jonas blasts on full volume when they're home alone. It's neither, though.

"What song is it?" he has to ask, feeling frustrated about not knowing. 

"You don't listen to Fleetwood Mac?"

"Of course" he lies, nodding, "I do, I do. They're great."

He's only ever heard one song from them; Sugar Daddy, and he doesn't even know what they look like, how many people are in the band, or what kind of music they play. He knows they have a girl singer, though. 

"No you don't" Even says, giving him a small smile and raising his eyebrows, "What do you listen to?"

"David Bowie."

"Ah, yeah, he's good."

"I bet you don't even listen to him."

Even raises his eyebrows in mock-disbelief at Isak's retaliation, and it almost makes Isak laugh. He looks so pretty like that, when he's not tired or upset, but just joking around. Yet, there's something up. Isak can't place it, if it's the way his eyes are glazed over, or if it's the way his right eyebrow keeps twitching. 

"I do listen to him" he says, playfully pushing Isak and then taking his hand to drag him to the grass, "But I've only heard his new songs."

He sits down on the grass and pulls Isak down with him. Since it just rained, it's wet and his jeans are getting soaked, but it doesn't matter because he's sitting with Even and they're both smiling and the weather is almost like it is in the summer; warm, sunny, and stuffy. 

No one else is here, except for two old ladies. It's a nice change from the places he usually spends his time at, where you can't go anywhere without meeting at least one person you know. 

"Jonas always takes me here" he says, lying down and letting his sweater get soaked as well, "We have picnics and feed the ducks."

"Do we have to talk about him?" Even asks, sounding very annoyed, "He just broke your nose and fucking ruined my pipe."

"He thought I was smoking it, he's not-, he's a really good person. I know why you think he's a dick but he's really not like that, I promise."

Even shrugs, then sighs, running his hand through his own, greasy hair. His jaw is tensed, obvious by the way his jawline gets extra sharp and his temples pop out. It looks like he's sweating as well, with his forehead being extra shiny, and he's gotten a lot paler than he was before. 

"He hurts you" he mumbles, fingers stretching out repeatedly, like a spasm, "But you can't see that, you can't-, fuck."

"I'm sorry" Isak whispers, feeling the guilt creep up once again, "I shouldn't have brought him up. I'm sorry."

The silence takes over again, besides from Even's shallow breathing and Isak's deep sighs. After a while of thinking about whether he should do it or not, he takes Even's hand and squeezes it. His heart feels like it will pound out of his chest, but he doesn't want to let go of him because it seems like it's calming him down. 

And maybe it does, for a moment, but then Even reaches inside of his hoodie and takes out a bag, before making Isak let go of his hand by pulling it back. He's close to apologizing, again, but then Even starts talking;

"Look away" he says, bringing out a smaller, ziploc bag from the big one, but Isak can't tear his eyes away from him, "Isak. I'm sorry, but you can't see this."

His eyes are almost burning a hole in Isak's skull as he tries to make him look anywhere except at him. Isak wants to stroke his hair and kiss his forehead until everything gets better. He wants to do everything for Even, would do anything, so he does as he says and looks away. 

Instead of looking at the leaves blowing in the wind and the small birds flying around, he closes his eyes and tries to listen to all the sounds Even makes. It's hard, because he keeps getting distracted by the distant noises of the trains passing by and the small chattering of the ladies on the bench at the side of the path they walked on before.

It's possible, though. He can hear Even's teeth chattering even though it's at least 20 degrees where they are, his sharp intakes of breath, the tiny whimper he suddenly lets out and then the relieved moan. At the same time as Isak wants to cover his ears so he won't have to hear it, he also wants to keep listening to him forever. 

"Even?" he asks, embarrassed over how squeaky his voice is and over how much it trembles, "Are you okay?"

Then, he feels Even lie down next to him, his breathing deep and steady again. He feels afraid to look at him, doesn't want to see how high he is, and he wants to throw up. His nausea gets even worse when Even strokes his arm and nuzzles his neck. 

"Shit" Even moans, "Feels so good, shit."

Isak's throat hurts from holding back tears. His heartbeat is so fast, it feels like it's vibrating, and it gets even worse when Even opens his eyes and looks up at him. He looks like he's finally found peace after looking for years, so vulnerable as he lays a hand on Isak's chest.

"Don't be scared" he whispers, "Please don't be scared of me. I'm-, you asked me if I was ill last night and I am. I'm so ill."

Although he sounds so worried, his body doesn't show it. It's almost limp, and his heartbeat is probably half as fast as Isak's. Isak finds himself a bit worried he's going to stop breathing because he's so relaxed. 

"Why?"

"I'm alone" Even answers, closing his eyes and hiding his face in Isak's exposed skin once again, "I don't have anyone. I want to die when I'm not high."

"Are you always high?"

Even nods and Isak feels when he breathes deeply with his nose, because it makes his neck cold. He doesn't understand how Even can be like this when he's high. He's almost normal, not at all like Isak acted when he took ecstasy or oxy. Speaking of oxy, his nose is starting to hurt like hell again and he wants to ask Even for more, but he seems too out of it to be able to give it to him. 

"I've been alone for so long" Even mumbles, his lips moving against Isak's skin, "I was never alone before. On the other side. I miss them."

So it's true, what Jonas said. Even's from east Berlin. It feels unreal, like he's a character in a book about DDR that Isak has read in school. East Berlin. Where people get imprisoned because of what they say, where they're afraid of even thinking certain things because they think the state can read their mind. 

Where people are spied on by their closest friends. It seems terrifying, and Isak can't even imagine how much fear they have to feel everytime they accidentally say something wrong. He feels happy for Even being able to leave, but he also feels bad because that was also the reason he turned into this mess. He didn't have anyone when he came here, and he still feels alone. 

"Where did you live?"

"Alexanderplatz. It was nice. I don't know-, I don't know why I left. Now, I live in a ruined house. I don't want to be there anymore. I want to go home." He's crying now, tiny sobs coming from his mouth, "I want my mom."

"It's okay" Isak whispers, like he knows. 

But he doesn't know. He doesn't know if Even ever will be okay again. Right now, though, it doesn't matter. All he can do is hold him and hope for the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3<3<3


	8. My Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He looks like art. Sad, sad art. Art that makes you cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance for the messiness of this chapter but I just wanted the story to move forward a bit hahah <3<3

After they say goodbye, Isak doesn't see Even for three weeks. It's like he's completely vanished. He doesn't spend his nights at Galaxy anymore and Isak can't even find him at Bahnhof Zoo, where Jonas says he always is.

The first week, he doesn't really reflect on it. He's constantly high on all the Oxy Even gave him, and Jonas can't say anything about it because he was the one who broke his nose and made everything hurt. That week, he calls in sick and stays at home everyday. Whenever his mom's home, he says he has a fever and locks himself in his room. 

Jonas tries to make him go out or at least get out of bed, but he just wants to lie there, completely relaxed and high as a kite. So after the first week, when suddenly, the bag of Oxy is empty, Isak doesn't know what to do. At first he panics, then he takes the train to Zoo to see if Even's there (which he's not), then he goes to Potsdamer to see if he's there (which he's not), and in the evening he goes to Galaxy to ask Chris if he knows where he's at. 

Chris doesn't know, but he gives him some weed to take the edge off. The anxiety of not knowing where Even is takes over his mind, and together with the pain of his broken nose and the Oxy withdrawal, he feels like he's dying. His hands keep shaking and his stomach hurts and he always feels close to tears. 

Jonas, being the great friend that he really is, never lets him be alone when he feels like that. He makes him eat at least a sandwich everyday and smokes joint after joint with him on the balcony. 

After three days of constant misery from the withdrawal, he starts feeling better again. He can get out of bed without Jonas making him do it, and he doesn't need to smoke weed until everything spins and blurs. Some days, Jonas drags him to school, but he can't focus on anything and he usually goes home after the first period.

Even is the only thing going through his mind. Where is he? What's he doing? Is he okay? Maybe he's dead. Maybe he overdosed on heroin, or he was run over by a train, or he was kidnapped by someone when he was high. 

He starts going to Galaxy every night and he stays there for at least five hours everytime. Some nights, he just sits outside, or in the bathroom, because all he wants is to see if Even's still alive. Not even William knows. 

And then, when the worrying gets too much, he goes to Chris and Eva and follows them like a little puppy until Chris finally gives him some ecstasy or weed or whatever he's stacked up on. Eva almost gets prettier for every time that Isak sees her, her hair gets shinier, her eyes get greener, her lips get plumper. That means Chris also gets more possessive, and everytime Isak looks at her for too long, he gives him the evil eye until he turns his gaze to someone else. 

Eva doesn't care, though, and she drags Isak to the dancefloor when he looks too distraught. Then they dance for hours, until the drugs have worn off completely and the music stops. It's nice, and while it's not perfect, at least he feels alive. He doesn't just lie in bed and wait for his mom to bring home another boyfriend, but he does whatever he wants. 

He doesn't tell Jonas where he's going, he doesn't come home before 4 AM, he doesn't speak politely to every single guy his mom brings home. It doesn't matter. He doesn't have to love her, it's not his fault she's his mom, he doesn't have any obligations.

The only obligations he feels nowadays are taking care of Even and making sure Jonas doesn't get too disappointed in him. He's already failed the first one, and he feels like he's on the way to fail the second one. He can see it everyday, in the way he doesn't trust Isak to keep his promises, in the way he never expects Isak to make him proud. 

It should hurt. It would've hurt just a week ago. Maybe he takes him for granted, maybe he should appreciate him more, but it seems impossible to care even a little bit. Now, when his nose has healed, Jonas thinks it's okay to make decisions for him again. To yell at him for coming home high, or for being hungover all day in school.

When he tells Chris, he just laughs and says that Jonas definitely shouldn't say anything. That before Isak started partying, he did every single drug he could find and was close to having to go to the hospital for alcohol poisoning. Isak brings that up in one of their fights, and it ends with Jonas storming out in the rain and with them not talking for two days. 

Neither of them can hold a grudge for long, and two days feel like an infinity. And no matter what Isak says, he knows he needs Jonas. He needs him when he's worried about Even, or when he gets an existential crisis, or when he misses being high a bit too much. 

He still parties, even if Jonas hates him going there alone. He still stumbles into the apartment and throws up all over the bathroom floor, letting Jonas clean it up when he himself has fallen asleep on the old couch. 

After two weeks of flipping out, he finally sees Even again, on the floor in one of the toilet booths at Galaxy. He's shooting up, and Isak finds himself so fascinated by the way the blood gets sucked into the syringe. It looks terrifying. He has marks on the skin surrounding the needle, probably from where he's injected himself before, and paired with the almost black bruises on his wrist, he looks like art. Sad, sad art. Art that makes you cry. 

His eyes are closed, his eyelids dark from exhaustion, and his lips look awfully swollen, like someone punched him, or like he had botox injections. Isak doesn't want to kiss him. He wants to give him a shower and wash his hair and tuck him in with freshly cleaned sheets and duvets.

"Where have you been?" Isak asks and walks up to him with careful steps, "What's going on?"

When he pulls the needle out, blood starts dripping down his arm, but he doesn't seem to care. He drops the syringe to the ground and just lets the red fluid flow. Isak takes a sharp breath and lunges forward to press his sleeve against the bleeding needle mark. 

"I'm so ill" Even whispers, tilting his head back and whimpering, "I can't stop, I can't-,"

Isak hushes him and sits down next to him, taking him in his arms. He's so skinny and Isak's afraid he's going to fall apart as he tries to hide in his chest, trembling and wheezing. It makes him feel so helpless when he realizes that right now, there's nothing he can do. He can just wait for the first rush to pass, and then, maybe Even will calm down. 

People come and go into the toilets, but they don't even give Even and Isak a second look. They're probably used to people lying completely knocked out on the dirty floor. Isak's not used to it at all, though, and it makes him nervous and anxious and uncomfortable. 

A couple of minutes later, Even relaxes against him and kisses his cheek. His shaking hand moves up to Isak's face and strokes his cheek, so gently, it's almost ridiculous. 

"Too strong" he mumbles and then sighs, "Fuck, I can't feel my legs."

"Where were you? I was so worried about you."

"I had to work" he answers, shaking his head, "I had no money, I couldn't afford it anymore, I had to work nights. I needed money."

"What do you work as?"

Even doesn't answer. Instead, he starts playing with Isak's hands, pressing them so hard it feels like the blood flow to his fingers will stop. He lets him do it, though, because, first of all, Even's head is completely in the sky, and second of all, it obviously is comforting to him. 

The music is leaking from the dancefloor into the toilet stalls and Isak wants to get out and dance, but he's not sure Even can even stand up. He looks like he's about to take a nap, but Isak really doesn't mind because he's been worried for more than two weeks, and now he finally has Even in his arms. Safe and sound. Almost. 

"My prince" Even murmurs and kisses his jaw, "Beautiful prince. I'm never letting you become a mess like me."

Isak melts. He gets all soft and mushy inside and his heart skips a beat because Even just called him his prince. He's completely gone, though, has no idea whatsoever what he's doing or saying, so Isak can't really trust it. He hums anyways, though, and pulls him a little bit closer. 

"And I'm your king, like in the David Bowie song" he continues, "And we'll have a happily ever after. With two babies and a dog."

"Oh really? Two babies?" Isak asks, deciding to play along with this happy fantasy because it seems to make Even feel better, "Twins?"

"Mhm. And we'll move to Wuppertal so our tiny babies can't go to Bahnhof Zoo."

"And get messed up like you?"

Even nods and gives him a sad smile. His eyes are half-lidded and he really looks out of it, but at least he looks better than he did before the fix. He looks like he's not hurting anymore, like he's not as close to his death. Although it's probably the opposite. 

For a while, they just sit there, Even mumbling about their happy future and Isak listening and agreeing to everything he says. It does sound perfect, but he knows it'll never happen. Even will get bored of him and he'll find someone else, someone wilder and more experienced. 

A future with Even would be nice, but Isak has no idea what he's like when he's not high or suffering from horrible withdrawal. He looks like an art kid, who paints and draws and writes down every interesting thing they see. And he probably was like that before everything shattered.

Suddenly, Chris comes into sight. He looks a bit worriedly at Even, biting his lip and furrowing his brows, but when Even smiles, his concerned expression smooths out a bit. He looks so good, with his red eyeshadow and black eyeliner and leather jacket, and Isak wants to eat him. Chris smirks at him like he knows, and he probably does. 

"You guys coming with us to Europa Center?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I'm sorry but I hope you liked it anyways, please leave comments and kudos <3<3  
> I'm fucking exhausted haha


	9. Heroes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm poor," Even grins and hits the glass one more time before it cracks. "Fuck these capitalist bastards, anyways."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay i'm back, this is v dialogue heavy though bc i think that's the easiest thing to write haha

It's the best night of Isak's life. Europa Center is open all hours of the day, but Isak's only been here during the day. It's different now. It's completely empty and the lighting is dim and you can see the store signs' neon colors properly. It almost feels like an alternate universe, like everything is a bit distorted in there. The time, the colors, the sounds. 

They're running, but he doesn't know why. He doesn't think much about it, though, because Even's holding his hand and dragging him through the different sections of the mall. Not one single store is open except for a tiny bakery, where the cashier is sleeping.

Even looks so happy. That's what Isak loves the most about this. He looks like he's alive for the first time in a long time, and Isak just wants him to be like this forever, smiling and glowing. It's such a difference from how he was just half an hour ago, when he barely could open his eyes. 

Now, he's laughing together with Isak and joking around with Chris, Eva, William, and three others called Magnus, Mahdi, and Noora, who Isak just met. They're nice and hilarious and his stomach hurts from laughing too much. He thinks he's seen Noora before, hanging out with Eva, but he's never seen the guys. 

Chris is the same as he was the night Isak met him, touchy and kind, and he keeps running his fingers through Isak's hair, making him weak at the knees. It seems to make Even jealous because he wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him closer, like he wants to protect him or something. 

"There's literally no one here," Magnus says, looking around. "Why are we just standing here like idiots?"

"You're right," Eva agrees, grinning mischievously. "I don't know about you guys, but I need some money."

They all laugh, and suddenly Even grabs Isak's arm and starts dragging him to one of the several ticket booths. It's empty, so he doesn't really understand why, until Even's elbow hits the glass. 

"What are you doing?!" Isak shrieks, gaping at him. "Stop!"

"I'm poor," Even grins and hits the glass one more time before it cracks. "Fuck these capitalist bastards, anyways."

All of the others run to grab the coins and notes, until the cash register is completely empty, and then the alarm (with an extremely slow reaction time) goes off. It rings so damn loud, but after shoving all the money in his pockets, Even takes Isak's hand again and makes it impossible for him to cover his ears. 

"Fucking run!" Chris yells, already twenty meters ahead of them. "The cops will be here soon!"

He's right. After just a couple of minutes, Isak can hear a couple of grown men yelling at them to stop right where they are or they'll shoot. Even reassures him that it isn't true, though, that the cops only are allowed to shoot if they're in danger. Isak wants to believe him, but he still makes sure to run as fast as he can so the cops actually can't see them.

Everyone ran separate ways, but Even doesn't seem to care as he drags Isak into an elevator and pushes the top floor button repeatedly until the doors finally close. 

"I think I had a heart attack," Isak pants, looking up at Even. He looks adorable, with his hair all messy (but in a good way) and his cheeks flushed red. It's a nice contrast to how pale and color-less he usually is. 

"It's fine," Even grins, trying to catch his breath as well. "They're fat and old, they can't run faster than us."

Isak's almost vibrating with nervousity and tension and pure happiness. He feels incredibly alert, like he would hear a car from a mile away, like every touch is magnified, so when Even kisses his cheek, he jumps from both shock and oversensitivity. 

"Oh, sorry," Even apologizes, but Isak shakes his head and kisses him back. 

"Where are we going?" he asks and leans against the dirty wall. His throat still burns from running too much, but at least he's caught his breath. "It's taking too long."

"We're going to the roof. They won't find us there. Plus, the dawn looks incredible up there."

"It's 3 AM."

"So? We'll wait."

Isak shrugs, then nods at him. It's not like he can get out of the elevator, anyways, and he'd like to spend the night on a roof with Even. Maybe he can kiss him again, or hug him at least. He's afraid he'll go into withdrawal soon again, though, because Isak hates seeing that syringe in his bruised arm, hates seeing him shake or hearing him whimper from using a bit too much.

When the elevator finally stops, the female voice tells them they're on 21st story and Even skips out without waiting for Isak. He disappears behind a dark wall and Isak hears a door click open, then a: "Hurry!"

A chilly breeze is coming from the open door and he's a bit reluctant to get out in the cold. He still goes, though, because Even's smiling so warmly at him and he looks so happy. (And Isak doesn't want to get caught by the cops.)

The sky doesn't look like it did the night they sat outside of Galaxy. It's not a sad black, but a dark purple instead, and it's just as beautiful as Even, whose eyes are pretty much sparkling just as much as the stars as he pulls him towards the fence further away. 

"Ladies first," he says, opening the gate for Isak. 

"I'm not a lady," Isak pouts, taking slow, slow steps to bother Even. 

"Shit, hurry up, man. I already have a record."

"You're a criminal?"

"Isak! Please!"

"Just because you asked so nicely."

"Thank you, darling," Even answers sarcastically. "Now, climb that."

He points at the ladder in front of them and Isak nods, making his way to the huge slab of concrete it's stuck to. The first step feels unsteady, but the rest is fine and in no time, he's up on the highest point of the roof, looking over the city. 

"Nice, isn't it?" 

"Yeah. I like it."

The police sirens can be heard all the way up there and the blue light is flashing, lighting up the bottom of the building. It's fun to watch, now when he's not getting chased by the cops. When he turns around, he can see Even has his back against the city and his face towards the big, spinning Mercedes-Benz logo.

"You good?" Isak asks and sneaks an arm around Even's waist. "Is everything okay?" It's a stupid question, really, because he knows everything isn't okay, but asking that just comes automatically when he's concerned. 

"I'm tired, 's all. It's been a long couple of weeks."

He leans his head on Isak's shoulder, with Isak softly running his hand over his waist in silence until the others arrive as well, yelling and laughing. All of them are panting and they're all flushed; they probably had to run a lot more than Isak and Even. 

"You're so sneaky!" Mahdi yells and elbows Isak's arm. "Running off without us!"

"Yeah!" Eva agrees, winking at them. "Rude!"

Chris, William, Magnus and Noora join them as well and the quiet and soft spell is suddenly broken. Chris gives out cigarettes like they're caramels and everyone takes one except for William, who already has a joint, and Even, who's pretty much half asleep. 

"Let's sit down," Isak murmurs against his hair and starts sliding down the cement wall. Even just follows him, his body almost lax in Isak's arms. "Your fitness really needs some improvement if you get tired this fast."

"I'm a drug addict, idiot," Even mutters and lays his head in Isak's lap. "I only run if someone steals my shit. Or if I steal someone's shit."

It's such a sad statement, but Isak still laughs because this is the first time Even doesn't sound upset when talking about his life. What's sad, though, is the fact that the bruises on Even's neck are so visible when Isak looks at him from this angle, and they're bad. It looks like someone's tried to choke him and Isak finds himself wanting to touch them to soothe the poor, hurting skin. But he can't, because Even will probably just flinch away and be tense for the rest of the night. 

Instead, he runs his fingers through the greasy hair and drags in and blows out the smoke from the cigarette, making sure he doesn't accidentally blow it in Even's face. While he's slowly falling asleep, the others are yelling at the cops, who are down on the ground, saying how they'll never be able to get them and how they're the biggest assholes in the world. Especially Eva, who's standing on top of the wall, holding onto a pole. When she lets out an especially loud yell, Even jerks in his half-slumber, burying his face in Isak's thigh. 

"You're good," Isak soothes, "Just let-," he interrupts himself when he sees William moving closer to them with slow, trailing steps. 

"Is he sleeping?" he asks, looking at Even. "Can I sit down?"

"Do you have to?"

"No, I just-, I want to talk to you."

Isak nods and William gives him a tiny smile before sitting down next to him with his legs against his chest. He looks completely different to how he's looked every other time Isak's seen him. Today, he's wearing baggy clothes and his hair is all over the place and he looks kind of soft, like he just wants someone to cuddle him. 

"I'm sorry," he sighs, staring into nothing. "I'm sorry for the way I treated you that night. I'd just had a really tough day and-"

"I don't care. It wasn't that big of a deal for me. Mostly for Even."

"Yeah, he's-, uh, he's really overprotective. He doesn't want anyone to ruin their lives the way he did with his."

"What about you? Have you ruined your own life as well?"

"It was a chain reaction, really," he shrugs and inhales the smoke from his joint. "My dad started it. Then, it was my uncle. And then I just continued what they started."

"What did they do?"

William swallows harshly and looks down at his lap before closing his eyes. It feels strange to see him like this, because all those nights Isak spent at Galaxy, looking for Even, William treated him like he was a stupid, naive child who had no grasp on reality. Now, he's actually talking to him, (almost) grownup to (almost) grownup. 

"They sold me. Shit, I was nine and they sold me every single night. I was a fucking child."

"I'm sorry," Isak mumbles, his hands almost shaking from just hearing about what happened to William when he was so young. He thought that what his father did was bad, but now he realizes that William's father was at least a hundred times worse. "That's-, shit, that's horrible. That's terrifying."

"Yeah. And, you know, after both of them died in a drive-by, I didn't know who I was, you get it? I just knew people wanted to fuck me, I thought I was some sort of sex doll."

It surprises Isak that William still is collected, because he knows that if it were himself talking, he'd be crying floods because of what's happened to him. If he would have gotten sold by his dad to countless men when he was a little kid, he'd probably have killed himself already. 

"You're strong, though," he states. "I mean, you're still here. That's an accomplishment when someone's went through something like that."

"You're sweet," William chuckles sadly, his left eyebrow raised. "But I'm really not strong. Like, at all. God, I'm always high, and I'm always in the back of someone's car. It's messed up."

"That doesn't seem like a life worth living," Isak says without thinking, only later realizing how that definitely wasn't the best thing to say. "I didn't mean it like that. Of course you should be alive."

William just laughs and stubs his joint out against the cold ground. He actually laughs, like this isn't a big deal, when it really is. When he's one of the most broken people Isak's ever met. Then, he leans his head against the wall and looks at Isak with a sad smile on his face. 

"Nah," he says, shaking his head. "It's really not. Worth living, I mean. I'm dead inside, anyhow."

"Do you think about death alot?"

"I mostly think about killing myself and sex."

"And drugs?"

"And drugs."

"Why sex?"

"It's been my life since I was nine. I don't feel as worthless when I'm getting someone off, I guess. It makes me feel wanted."

He's turning his head to look at Chris with these longing, admiring eyes, and Isak kind of understands the feeling from when he was in love with Jonas. His sunshine, who he's let down too many times. 

"Are you in love with Chris?"

"No. I don't know. I'm just not sure whether I want to blow him or jump off the building."

"You should do neither," Isak says, then: "Are you high?"

"Higher than the fucking TV Tower, man. I need to be when I spend everyday in a damn backseat with men I don't even know."

"Are you a prostitute?"

William just bites his lip and scoots closer to him and Even, reaching a hand out to stroke Even's cheek with his thumb. He suddenly looks so broken, and there's almost a fondness in his gaze, like he's never talked to, or about Even like he hates him. Isak almost wants to smack his hand, feeling the overprotectiveness fill his brain, but William looks so sad and Isak doesn't want to make it worse. 

"I'm not a bad person," he whispers, like he's trying to convince himself. "I'm not. I'm the only one who cares about him. I'm-, I'm the one who feeds him and puts him to bed and I comfort him when those disgusting men go too far. I don't-"

"Is he a prostitute, too?"

Of course he is. Of course, that's where he gets the bruises from. Isak just wants to wake him up so he can hold him and tell him it doesn't matter, it's okay, even though it's not. Isak feels his lungs, his heart, his mind hurting because Even sells himself to men who choke him, who hold him to the bed while he can't do anything. 

"Fuck," William groans, hiding his face in his hands. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry. Please don't tell him I said that."

"I won't." He pulls Even's shirt up a bit higher, until the collar is covering the bruises, and then kisses his forehead. His Even. His broken, beautiful Even. "What's it like?"

"Selling yourself? It's a job, you know. The problem is that, like, after they give you those 40 Mark or whatever, your body isn't yours anymore. Until they finish, they get to decide what to do with you. And you can't say no, because then they'll just do it anyways but hurt you even more. That's why he's bruised all over. Check his stomach."

Tentatively, Isak lets his shaking hands lift Even's sweater. He barely dares to look at him, but when he does, his eyes immediately start welling up. His entire waist and stomach are a mix of red, blue, purple and green, like some sort of messed up rainbow. 

"They like him because he has big lips," William sighs and runs a hand through his own hair. "But he doesn't do what they say. He's the only one of us who dares to say no."

Isak feels his own voice getting stuck in his throat, like an annoying cough, like he's choking on his words. Even must be hurting all the time, both from the shit in his brain and from the men who just won't listen to him when he tells them 'no'. 

The sounds around him are muffled, Mahdi's chuckles, Eva's jokes. It's like he's wearing ear muffs, or like he's underwater. He can't help running his fingers over where he's bruised the most, around the hipbones and right at the curve of his waist. The skin feels warmer there, but it's full of goosebumps from Isak's light touch. 

He notices someone towering over him, nudging his arm with their foot. When he looks up, he sees Noora, looking at him with a soft smile. 

"Don't touch him there," she says softly. "He doesn't like it."

"But he's sleeping," Isak mumbles, desperate to be able to keep touching Even where it hurts the most. 

"And that makes it okay for you to cross his boundaries?"

She's still smiling at him, like he's a child who doesn't understand that what he's doing is wrong, so he pulls down Even's shirt once again and moves his hand back up to his hair. 

"Where is Jonas?" she asks, sitting down in front of him with crossed legs. "He's your friend, right?"

"Yeah. My best friend."

"He never parties anymore, huh?"

"No. I think he feels like he needs to take care of me when I come home so, you know. He can't be high or drunk."

"Should he need to take care of you? I mean, he's fifteen, he shouldn't have to do that."

She's right. He knows she is, and he knows he needs to change his behavior, for Jonas's sake. It's so, so selfish to come home every night and throw up everywhere, to tell him he hates him just because he doesn't want Isak to get high. Because if Jonas loves him that much, then he should love him back and show it just as much. 

"I'm going to stop partying every night. I love him too much to continue."

"You need to stop now," William hums. "Because, later, love won't mean a thing to you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u so much for reading please leave comments and kudos ily <3<3


	10. All I Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do you want me to be? Your boyfriend, I mean."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so sorry for being horrible at updating but thank u guys for still hanging in there with me.... I'll get better I promise

"Wake up," Isak whispers, kissing Even's forehead. "The sun's rising, baby. Wake up."

Even's eyelids are fluttering, trying to open themselves, and he tosses and turns in his sleep. He's not a deep sleeper, Isak noticed that tonight; him jolting awake at every harsh sound. What's good, though, is that he fell back asleep just as fast everytime. 

As he softly runs a hand over his cheek, Even's eyes open to look at him. They are on their way of closing again, but Isak stops him falling asleep by carefully manoeuvring him until he has his head on Isak's chest instead of his lap. 

"Good morning," he murmurs against Even's hair. "I thought you'd want to see the dawn."

Even's cheeks are radiating warmth through Isak's shirt and he looks so sweet with half his face smushed against his chest. Next to them, William's sleeping as well, his head on Noora's lap. Chris, Eva, Magnus and Mahdi are standing up, leaning against the wall with cigarettes in their hands. It's chill. It's calming. Too calming, because Even's almost asleep again. 

Softly, he rocks him awake, until Even's finally looking up at him with wide open eyes. They're red, and his pupils are tiny, but it's okay and Isak doesn't find himself being uncomfortable with it anymore. 

"Are you awake now?" Isak asks and Even nods, curling up a bit closer to him. "Good. That's good."

"What time is it?" Even croaks, pushing himself up to a sitting position and then rubbing his eyes. "I'm sorry I fell asleep."

"It's okay," Isak reassures him, then checks his wristwatch. "It's 5:30."

It's warm outside, but not the heavy kind of warmth, like it is in July, where the air feels wet and the sun is burning. It's the regular May warmth, with small breezes and the air feeling like it's a part of you. 

The sky is clear, the only patterns being the airplanes' emissions. It's a mix of red and pink and yellow, like a rainbow has taken over. Even seems to be pretty mesmerized by it as well, pulling Isak up from the ground and exclaiming a, "Look at the sun, Issy."

It's blood red and even prettier than the sunsets in Köln. The skyline is lit up beautifully and the smog makes it look surreal in a way. Like this is just a movie he's watching. But it's real, he has the entire city of Berlin in front of him, and Even next to him. Even points at the tower far, far away, in the back of the skyline, and kisses Isak's cheek.

"I lived there," he murmurs, tickling the soft skin. "Right next to it. Alexanderplatz."

"Do you miss it?" Isak asks and it's a stupid question because he knows he does, but he wants to listen to Even some more. Even shrugs and fishes up a box from his pocket. 

"I was always afraid," he answers, lighting up a cigarette from the box. "I don't think you even understand. The government-, they made you feel as scared an small and worthless as possible. But my family was there. And I-, I know it's stupid, but I really do miss it. I miss the security. People always do what's the safest for them. No one is addicted and no one-" He interrupts himself, shaking his head and taking a drag of smoke. Isak expects him to continue what he was going to say, but he stays silent. 

Isak doesn't say anything, either. He thinks he knows what Even was going to say. That no one sells themselves there. Like Even does. Like he's forced to do to get money for drugs and food and rent. If he doesn't live in an apartment illegally, that is. 

He looks at Even to see if he's sad, but he looks kind of numb. Like he's already felt all of his feelings and there's no happiness or sadness left. Then he smiles, though, seeming to have noticed Isak's gaze fixed at him. 

"I'm okay," he says and turns to him, leaning against the low wall with his elbow on top of it. "Don't worry."

"You have to take care of yourself," Isak sighs, running his thumb over Even's too prominent cheekbone. "I can't go to Galaxy every night, I can't do that to Jonas. But I need to know you're okay."

"Will I never see you again?"

"I can go on Saturdays. Maybe Fridays. But the rest of the week, you have to be on your own. I'm sorry."

"Isak, I've been on my own for forever. I've been fine without you, I'll be fine now as well."

He knows Even's right. They've met each other - what, four times? Even's been alone since he was ten. It's not like this has changed anything, like Isak has been saving his life or something, but he still feels the need to know that Even will be fine. That he won't get hurt by those ugly men. 

"I worry about you."

"You don't have to worry about me. You're not my boyfriend, Issy."

"Do you want me to be?" Isak asks, his words coming too fast for his brain to be able to analyze the meaning of them first. "Your boyfriend, I mean."

Even just shakes his head and inhales the smoke from the cigarette again. After exhaling, he rolls up his sleeves to reveal those awful bruises Isak already has seen so many times. Now, he can see that some of the bruises are outlined with tiny scars formed as crescent moons. Probably from someone's nails. 

"You don't know me," he says, thinking that Isak doesn't know all about him selling himself to strangers. "You don't want to be my boyfriend. I promise. I'm not boyfriend material."

"I can't stop thinking about you. You're-, it's like you've taken over my brain. I always need to know if you're okay. Maybe you'd trust me more if I was your boyfriend."

He shakes his head once again, looking at Isak like he's being ridiculous, and maybe he is. Maybe it's stupid, asking a hooker and drug addict to be his boyfriend, thinking he'll be able to save him. 

"You're beautiful, Isak," Even says and presses a kiss to his forehead, "And you're one of the kindest people I've ever met. But I can't be your boyfriend until you know everything about me."

"I know you're a prostitute, if that's what you're talking about."

Even's entire body tenses, including his face, his jaw tightly clenched and his hand dropping the cigarette because of his fingers involuntarily stretching out. He looks like he's going to cry and Isak really, really doesn't want that, so he stretches out hand to touch him, soothe him, do whatever. 

"Don't touch me," Even snarls, stepping away from him, and Isak's heart fucking drops to his stomach. "Who told you?"

"No one told me," Isak shakes his head, He can sense the others looking at him and it just makes him even more nervous. "No one, it was William," he says, completely forgetting he promised him he wouldn't say it was him. "He told me."

"I fucking hate him!" Even yells, kicking the wall and then lunging over to the sleeping boy next to Noora. "He can't, he can't just do that, what the fuck, he-"

Chris grabs him from behind and pulls him to his chest, hushing him. It looks strange, with Even being so much taller than him, but it seems to calm him down because he lets Chris lead him away from William. 

"Chill," Chris soothes, an arm around Even's waist. "Don't you think Isak has the right to know that? I mean, you've kissed him. So."

"He can't say those things," Even chokes out, frantically shaking his head. "I don't want-, I don't want him to know."

That makes Isak pull him away from Chris and wrap his arms around him, running his hands through his hair. He's trembling in his arms and he's almost completely stiff, refusing to hug him back. 

"It's okay," Isak whispers. "I don't care. I don't care, it's what you need to do to survive. It doesn't matter. I want to be your boyfriend."

"I want you to be," Even nods, slowly letting himself get closer to Isak and then making himself smaller to be able to bury his face in the crook of his neck. "I don't want to be alone anymore. I want to be yours."

Isak feels like this is the reason God put him here. To be with Even, to take care of this beautiful, amazing, broken boy. He doesn't even believe in God, stopped thinking he exists when his dad kept hitting him even when he prayed every night for him to stop. 

But he believes in him now, because why else would Isak meet him? Fate could never be this kind. Fate could never place him here with the prettiest boy he's ever seen and the brightest sunrise in the background. 

"Then, you're mine. My boyfriend."

"My beautiful. You're so beautiful, Issy."

-

When he comes home, Jonas is sleeping on his bed. From far away, he looks peaceful, but when Isak comes closer, he can see the puffiness of his face and how wet his eyelashes are. It looks so sad, and he looks so incredibly alone. 

Quietly, he slips down under the covers and lies down next to him, putting an arm over his waist. He's warm from sleep and Isak has to take off his shirt to not get way too hot. 

The movement seems to wake Jonas up, since his breathing quickens and he starts moving under the comforter, turning from side to side. Even more carefully than before, Isak lies down again, a bit closer as well. 

"I hate you," he suddenly whispers, his voice hoarse and quiet. "You hurt me all the time."

Isak doesn't answer. Instead, he runs his hand over Jonas's side, kissing the back of his head. Since their curtains aren't the best, the sun is lighting up the room, making it impossible to fall asleep. 

It's soft. The bed is soft, the lighting is soft, Jonas is soft underneath his fingers. Isak feels so happy. He has a boyfriend and he has his best friend right next to him. Who cares about his mom? Who cares about her boyfriends? Not Isak, that's for sure.

"Do you even care about me?" Jonas asks, his voice muffled against the pillow, and Isak remembers that he hasn't cared much about him either. 

"I do," Isak mumbles against his neck. "I care so much about you. I'm going to stop."

"Thank you."

Jonas turns around and looks at him through half-lidded eyes, his eyelashes covering the most of them. If this was just a couple of months ago, Isak would've been so nervous and his heart would be pounding from this, but it's not like that anymore. He doesn't blush everytime he sees Jonas and the warmth in his chest just comes from loving him, not being in love with him.

And he's so happy for that, because that means their friendship won't get ruined. If Isak doesn't ruin it by doing other stuff, that is. Like keeping on coming home late, drunk out of his mind. But he won't. 

"You're sober," Jonas states, carding a hand through Isak's curls. "That's nice."

"Yeah," Isak answers and closes his eyes as well, feeling how he's getting more and more tired. "I have a boyfriend now."

"I don't want you to go every night. I miss you."

"I won't. I'll only go on the weekends, otherwise I'm going to stay at home with you. Like a stay-at-home friend."

Jonas smiles for the first time in what feels like forever, and he looks so sweet like this; sleepy, happy and calm. He looks like a child. And Isak feels like a child. A safe child who's never known pain in his life and who never will feel it. 

"A boyfriend, huh?" Jonas asks, his right eyebrow raised almost all the way up to his hairline. "You're going fast."

"Yeah. Even."

Jonas hums, nodding. "I figured."

"I think he loves me."

"He probably does." He's still nodding, and Isak wonders if he's actually listening. 

"I think he loves heroin more."

"He probably does."

"I don't care."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so here was some happy isak, thank you sooo much for reading, if you feel like it please leave comments and kudos bc they make me really happy and they make me want to continue this <3<3 ily guys also if there's something specific u want me to write about in the coming chapters pls tell me bc i don't really have a plan for them <3


	11. Like a Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You don't have to hide from me, Even. I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a filler chapter kind of? idk man all my chapters feel like filler chapters hahaha

He missed this so much. He missed cooking dinner with Jonas and having movie nights with him and falling asleep at a reasonable hour. It's nice, it's comfortable, it's cozy. And Jonas seems so much happier, actually wanting to be close to him instead of having to be because of his drunkenness. 

He can't help worrying about Even, though. He can't help thinking he's blacked out in some dirty bathroom with an already used syringe in his arm. So he meets up with him anyways, but during the daytime when Jonas is at school and Isak stays at home because he just doesn't want to go.

At seven, he eats breakfast with Jonas, at eight he takes a shower, at nine he gets dressed and fixes his hair, and at ten he goes to Bahnhof Zoo. Even always hangs out outside, waiting for his customers, and even when Isak gets the urge to stop him from getting into those cars, he stops himself because he knows that this is his job and he needs this. 

It's nice. It's nice spending the day with Even, taking bong rips in his lap and making out with him, and then going home to spend the evening with Jonas until they fall asleep together in his mom's bed, because it's much bigger than Isak's and she never spends her nights at home anymore. 

One day in the middle of June, when the sun is shining through the clouds, Even takes Isak to his place. They take the U1 train to Kreuzberg, and while Even doesn't seem fazed by taking him there, Isak feels so, so anxious to be alone with Even in a secluded area for the first time, but also to go to Kreuzberg at all. 

It's not a good place. Everyone says so. The guns are everywhere, the drugs are everywhere, it's almost impossible to live there. But Even does, in a ruined house, with William. Isak doesn't know why Noora isn't staying there with them, but they probably have their reasons and he never remembers to ask.

"It's not that bad," Even reassures him when they get off the train. "There are some strange people, yeah, but stay close to me and you'll be fine."

It's extremely close to the east side. Some houses have the wall on three different sides, almost surrounded by the grey landscape. They look nice, though, the houses. They're red and only have maximum three floors. It looks better than the majority of Berlin, and Isak wonders how people can think of this is a bad place. 

He realizes it after just a couple of minutes. Even doesn't live in that part of Kreuzberg. He lives in the part where the people in the government don't know if they want to tear it all down or just let it be until it decays on its own. 

And of course, he lives in the worst one. The one where all the windows are smashed and the street door isn't even there. Even doesn't say anything about it, though, instead leading Isak up the stairs until they get to the third floor. 

"Welcome," Even grins, shaking his head as he opens the door. Isak can't believe it. 

There's a bed, and two mattresses, and they're surrounded by empty pizza boxes, dirty clothes, and syringes. It makes Isak's skin crawl and he just hates seeing this unorganized, dirty apartment, and knowing Even lives there. 

"Even?" Isak murmurs, kissing his cheek. "Why don't you take a shower and I'll clean up a bit here, hm?"

"You really don't have to," Even says, but Isak can see how relieved he looks, so he nods and pushes him towards what he think is the bathroom. "Be careful with the needles, okay? And don't throw them away, I can't afford new ones."

"Then I'll buy it for you."

Even looks like he's going to cry from gratitude, but Isak scooches him away and starts cleaning up the horrible mess in the apartment. He starts with all the disposable stuff, like the cartons and the syringes and the candy wrappers, and that's easy because he just has to throw it in the garbage. 

Then comes the hard part. He needs to change the sheets and vacuum (if they even have a vacuum cleaner), clean up in the kitchen and do the dishes, and maybe start washing all their clothes.

He starts with the sheets, looking through every single closet to find some new ones until he sees some clean, light blue ones. The old sheets look like they've been through hell, like someone has slept there for months without changing them. Maybe that's actually the case. 

Trying to not get too disgusted, he quickly strips the comforters from their duvets and the pillows from the pillow cases before changing the sheets underneath. Luckily, the radio's on, playing Iggy Pop. It distracts him from the dirt and what he thinks is dried blood. 

With the clean sheets and without all the garbage, it already looks so much better, even if the place still is full of dirty plates and clothes and dust. It could be a nice apartment, because it has big windows and open spaces, but it looks like the average drug addict home, just a bit cleaner. 

The time passes a lot faster than it usually does when he cleans at home, and maybe that's because he's doing this for someone who really needs it. Suddenly, all the clothes are in the laundry basket and the plates are in the drainer, and the shower turns off. 

"Baby?" Isak calls out, knocking on the bathroom door. "Do you want lunch?"

Even doesn't answer, so Isak knocks once again before entering. He almost drops the clothes in his hands, because fuck. Even looks so, so good, even when he's blue and purple in most places and his ribs are way too visible. He really is the most beautiful person Isak's ever seen, with his blue eyes and soft lips and pale skin. 

"Isak, please," Even mumbles, shaking his head while covering himself with a towel. "Can you wait?"

"I got some clean clothes here," Isak answers, putting the dark blue sweatpants and red sweater on the toilet lid. "You don't have to hide from me, Even. I promise."

"Please go," Even begs and opens the cabinet under the sink, bringing out a needle. "I'll be there in a second, okay?"

Isak feels his heart speed up and he nods, quickly exiting the bathroom to go to the kitchen instead. He knows Even's addicted, knows he needs to do this, but it makes him just as anxious and uncomfortable everytime. He'll still hold him through it if he needs that, though, until the first rush goes away and until there's not too much pleasure running through his veins. Because sometimes it gets too much, and Even doesn't know what to do with himself.  

He lies down on the bed in the middle of the room, just relaxing and listening to the radio while waiting for Even. He's almost shocked by how well he cleaned the apartment. Maybe he should become a housekeeper. 

After about five minutes, Even walks out of the bathroom with wet, messy hair and the clothes Isak gave him. He looks adorable, and he would look healthy if his eyes weren't so red and his hands weren't shaking so much. 

"Are you an angel?" he asks when he sees what the flat looks like. "You didn't have to do this."

"Come here," Isak murmurs and Even does as he says, lying down next to him. "You smell good."

Even curls up to his side, so soft and pliant and sleepy, and Isak feels his heart swell. He wraps his arms around him and pulls him closer, kissing his forehead. There's a lit up streak on his face from the sun shining through the windows and it makes him squint his eyes as he looks up at Isak. 

"So warm," Even whispers, and Isak presses a kiss to his hair instead. "You're always so warm. I'm never warm."

"Because you have no body fat." Isak smiles at him, but Even just shakes his head and hides his face in Isak's chest. "You're warm right now, though."

None of them talk after that, instead just lying there and stroking each other's hair and humming along to the songs on the radio. Even knows almost all of them, but Isak only knows the ones with David Bowie, Iggy Pop and ABBA (they're great, okay). 

When the heroin isn't affecting Even as much, making him all woozy and tired, he climbs on top of Isak. It seems like he still doesn't have much energy, though, because he immediately lies down on Isak's chest, his head buried in the crook of his neck. 

"Issy," he sighs, his trembling hands resting above Isak's head, softly running through his curls. "You're an angel, you're not real. You can't be. You're a hallucination."

"I'm real," Isak reassures him, trying to keep his voice as gentle as possible. "I promise you. I'm right here."

Isak's stomach does jumps every single time Even moves just a little bit because he just wants to touch him everywhere, underneath his clothes, all over his bruises, where he's hurting the most and where he's not hurting at all. He can't do that, though, because the last time Isak tried to even hold his wrists, Even recoiled. He's not allowed to touch him where his clothes don't cover him. 

Even's never been this cuddly before. He's never wanted to be this close to Isak, and Isak revels in the way he tries to be as near him as possible, nosing at his cheek and not saying anything when Isak lays his arms around his waist to pull him closer. 

He starts moving a bit more and Isak understands that he's definitely doing it on purpose, his movements too calculated to be accidental. Small breaths puff against Isak's neck, and then Even's licking the skin, making him shiver. 

"Baby," Isak groans, feeling his stomach jump even more. "Even, you don't have to, baby-"

"But you're hard," Even mumbles, his voice a pitch higher than usual. "You want-, don't you want me?"

He's right. Isak didn't think about it before, but he's so hard and it must feel obvious to Even because it's pressing right against his ass. He gets way too distracted to answer, and his silence seems to make Even afraid of Isak being angry or disappointed, because he lifts his head up to look at him with shiny eyes. 

"You don't want me?" he asks again, biting his bottom lip. 

"No, no, I do," Isak hurries to say, reaching out to run a thumb over Even's cheek. "I want you all the time. But I don't think you want this. Not now."

"You don't want me."

Before Isak has the time to react, Even's climbing off his lap and walking towards the bathroom with shaky legs. His breathing sounds like he's going to cry at any second and if there's anything Isak hates, it's a crying Even. 

"Baby," he sighs, rolling off the bed and following him. He manages to catch him right before he enters the bathroom, putting his arms around his waist and pulling him close to his body. "I don't think we should do it yet. I want you to trust me instead of seeing me as if I'm one of your customers."

Isak can't get over how snuggly Even is, how relaxed he is compared to his usual mood, even now when he's upset. His hair is soft and fluffy and all over the place, tickling Isak's face, and he smells amazing from his recent shower. 

"I don't see you as them. You're my boyfriend, you are-, you love me, right? Why don't you-"

He interrupts himself by turning around and going down on his knees in front of Isak, quickly unbuttoning his pants before looking up at him with those huge, blue eyes, like he's asking for permission. And Isak has no idea what to do. Honestly, Even looks so fucking amazing like that, like the definition of submissive, but he probably doesn't want this, only doing this because he thinks it's what Isak wants. 

If anyone's an angel here, it's definitely him. He's so beautiful, so amazingly pretty, and Isak would die for him. He'd kill for him. And he can't do this. Softly, he pulls him up from the ground and drags him back to the bed. Even is reluctant to lie down again, but he does it anyways when Isak kisses his forehead. 

"You're the prettiest," Isak says, sitting down next to him and stroking his cheek. "And I want you. But we have to wait."

"When?"

"Soon. I promise."

"Can you lie down?"

Isak nods, this time lying a bit further away from Even so he won't feel like he has to do anything. He still lays a hand on Even's waist, though, because he needs to know he's near and safe. 

They're breathing at the same pace, and that together with the soft song streaming from the radio, consisting of acoustic guitars and a woman singing kind words, makes Even visibly calm down a little bit. His eyes are closed, but Isak knows he's still awake from his a bit too shallow breaths.

"I'm sorry," he suddenly whispers, sniffling. "Sometimes, sex is all I can think of. I'm such a whore."

"You don't have to apologize. And don't call yourself that. You're a prostitute, that's it. No more."

Even scoots a bit closer to him, until their knees are knocking against each other, and then he's kissing Isak the same way he did when it was their first time ever. When it was hesitant and insecure and comforting. Isak has to do almost everything, though, because Even's eyes are begging him to. He gently pushes his tongue into Even's mouth, making both of them moan very, very quietly, and when Even pouts, he bites down on his bottom lip.

"Issy," Even whimpers, his voice muffled by Isak's mouth. "So good, too much."

"Alright." Isak pulls away and then just looks at Even, taking in his flushed cheeks and red eyes and constricted pupils. "You're still high."

"Always."

"Does it feel good?" Isak asks, making Even answer by nodding. "What does it feel like?"

"Like the most intense orgasm ever."

"I want to try."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm in love with a straight girl sigh :(:(
> 
> thank you so so much for reading u know ily, I'd be really happy if you left comments and kudos!!!! 
> 
> please tell me if you'd like a chapter with jonas, and if u want it to be angst or fluff or whatever, or if u want a first time chapter with even and isak!! <3<3


	12. Prisoner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Can I kiss you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a mess  
> a mess i tell ya

_"If you ever do heroin, I will not hesitate to punch you in the throat."_

It's the first time Isak's allowed to touch Even everywhere. He's allowed to touch his ribs, broken from being held down too hard, the cigarette burn marks on his groin, the slightly raised, white scars on the top of his thighs. 

Even flinches every time his fingers move to a new spot, and Isak just wants to kiss it better. He just wants to give him all the money he has so he won't have to do this anymore, so he won't have to let strangers do whatever they want to him. 

"They did this to you?" he asks, softly stroking his thighs with his thumbs. Even sighs, sounding like he's going to cry any second now. 

"They did everything but that," Even whispers, sounding so ashamed. "When I was younger, I was so scared and alone. It was-, I didn't know what to do. It was the only thing I could do."

He knows he's only allowed to touch Even because Even wanted him to see what heroin addiction does to you, but it still feels special, like he trusts him now. Maybe he does. It would mean the world if he did. 

His baby. That's the only thing going through Isak's mind as he runs his hand all over Even's different kinds of scars, the self-harm ones, the needle ones, the scars that look like someone scratched him until his skin tore. This is his baby and Isak would rather die than see him get hurt again. 

It's nothing he can stop, though. What's he supposed to do? Even's miserable and he needs the money from the men hurting him to buy the heroin and needles scarring and ruining him. Isak can't do anything about that because it'll just make everything worse. 

"Can I get dressed?" Even asks, and when Isak looks up at him, he can see how crimson his cheeks are. "Please."

"Look at you, though," Isak murmurs, unable to help his staring. "You're so broken."

Even shakes his head and grabs the blanket lying next to him, wrapping himself in it with shaking hands. God, Isak feels like his heart just shattered. Even looks so calm lying there, only his feet and head sticking out of his make-shift safe place, but Isak knows the feelings inside of him contradict it. They're sharp against his soft edges, breaking him down until he's nothing. 

"I hate my body," Even whispers, pulling the blanket further up until his face is completely covered. "It's not mine anymore, it's-, it's-, they've touched me so much. Why would you even want me? I'm used, I'm disgusting."

"Baby boy," Isak murmurs and scoops him up in his arms, softly kissing the tufts of hair sticking up from the blanket wrap. "You're not disgusting, Even. You're my baby."

"You think I'm ugly."

"I don't."

Because Even might be broken, and he might have scars on every single inch of his skin, but he's still a beautiful boy. He still looks like an angel, with his long, blond hair and blue eyes and big lips. Isak's angel. 

His back is warm against Isak's chest and his hair is tickling his face and it's so incredibly comforting to have him here like this, close and safe. It feels good to know that he isn't somewhere else, getting hurt over and over again. 

After a little while, Even exposes his face again and looks up at Isak with half-lidded eyes and cheeks pink from the warmth. Isak wants to keep him wrapped up like this forever, preferably in four comforters and bubble wrap, but he knows he can't. Even would never let him control him like that. 

"Will you ever fuck me?" he asks, and Isak sighs because of course this is still on Even's mind. "What if you'll never want to fuck me?"

"Then you can fuck me? Baby, I just want you to feel good, that's all."

"Why?"

"You deserve it. You've been through so much, Even, you shouldn't have to hurt all the time."

"Can I kiss you?"

Isak nods and Even lets go of the blanket to take a grip on his shoulders instead, placing himself further up on Isak's lap to be able to kiss him properly. He's just as sweet as always, his eyes closed but his eyelids fluttering every time Isak moves his lips or tongue. 

He's making these tiny sounds in his throat, soft and high-pitched whimpers drowning in Isak's mouth. Isak's hands fit so perfectly on Even's waist, but when he starts roaming with them, he realizes that what feels the best is to have them in his newly washed hair. Softly rubbing his scalp, running his fingers through the wet locks, carefully pulling his hair to get those sweet, adorable sounds out of him. 

Even's hips start moving again, but this time, Isak's way too distracted to stop him. It feels so good, his lips are tingling and he knows he's getting hard way too quickly for his own liking. He can't really feel if Even's hard as well, but from the sounds he's making, it seems like he is. 

He lets one of his hands get under the blanket and stroke Even's thigh, slowly edging closer to his dick while he swallows every moan coming out of this beautiful boy's mouth. 

Then the front door opens. 

And Isak snaps out of it. 

He immediately removes his hand and pushes Even off his lap, ignoring the hurt look on his face because what the hell did he just do? He can't do this to him, not when he just saw all of the bruises Even's gotten from people using him, not when he just told Even they couldn't do this yet. 

"Even!" someone yells and the hurt look disappears to be replaced by a concerned look instead as he looks over at the door. "Some help here?"

Isak turns his gaze as well, only to see William with some guy, who looks like he's on the verge of dying, hanging over his shoulders. He's as pale as the dirty white wall behind him and his hair is completely plastered to his head, like it hasn't been washed for weeks. 

"Does he need-," Even starts, but William interrupts him. 

"Yeah, hold him and I'll go get it."

Even nods and throws on his sweatpants before practically jumping off the bed. Isak watches the scene with his heart in his throat the entire time. Even looks like a completely different person as he takes the guy into his arms and pull him back to the bed, holding him to his chest. He looks like someone who can take responsibility when Isak knows he can't. Not when he doesn't eat or drink when he's on his own. 

"Mikael," he whispers, his voice so, so gentle. "Does it hurt?" 

The guy, apparently named Mikael, just whimpers and hides his face in Even's naked chest. He's shaking so much and he sounds like he's sobbing and Isak has no idea what to do. Should he go home? Should he help? Should he just sit there and keep his mouth shut?

"Even," Mikael sobs and Even just hums, stroking his hair and kissing the top of his head. "I need-, I need-"

"I know, bubba, I know. Just a couple of seconds, William will be here soon." Even looks over at Isak and for once, his eyes look completely clear. "You should go home, Isak. I'm sorry."

"Of course," Isak answers, nodding and getting up from the bed. "I'll see you, yeah?"

He leans down and kisses his cheek, then walks over to the tiny hallway and gets dressed with his hoodie and sneakers. There's this strange feeling in his stomach, like something's really, really wrong, but he assumes it's just because of Mikael, or because of what he and Even were about to do. 

Right before he opens the door, he hears Even call out his name.

"Isak?" he asks, making Isak stop in his tracks. "I love you."

"Yeah. I love you too."

-

As soon as he sees Jonas sitting cross-legged on his bed, he gets a warm feeling in his chest again. The guilt from what he and Even almost did still presses over his lungs, but most of it goes away when Jonas looks up from his biology book and smiles at him.

"Hey," Isak says, walking over to him and plopping down right next to his book. "What's up?"

"Not much," Jonas answers, throwing his head back on Isak's lap and then looking up at him. "I'm bored."

Isak hums and runs his fingers through Jonas's dark curls, leaning against the wall. The room is silent, the batteries in the radio empty since forever, and Jonas looks so sleepy with his eyelashes brushing against his cheek and him constantly yawning. It's adorable, and Isak's never seen him this relaxed while awake before. 

"You came home early," he mumbles and Isak hums again. "Did something happen?"

Isak thinks for a while if he should tell him, then decides on that he should. This is after all his best friend, and the whole situation made him get this uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. 

"There was this guy," he begins, and Jonas nods without opening his eyes. "Mikael. William had to almost carry him inside and he just-, he was really hurting, I think he was crying. Maybe it was abstinence-, I don't know. But Even told me to go home."

"Probably was abstinence, yeah," Jonas agrees. "He's tried to get clean countless times."

"You know him? Why have I never met him before?"

"It's a long story."

"Jonas," Isak groans, moving away to let his head fall against the bed with a thud. "Tell me! Come on." Jonas grunts and swats his thigh before sitting up properly and rubbing his head. 

"Fine," he mutters, "It started with-"

"Wait! Let's go out on the balcony instead. I need to have a joint."

Jonas rolls his eyes but he doesn't complain, making his way to the balcony while Isak walks to his desk to get one of his already rolled joints that he got from William. It's not that he feels too stressed or worked up or anything, he just feels so much better and calmer with weed in his system. 

When he walks out to the balcony, Jonas is already sitting on one of the dark wooden chairs with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. One of his legs is folded underneath him and he has a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and he looks so cuddly and content. 

Isak places himself on the chair next to the small table, in the same position as Jonas is in, and snatches the lighter from Jonas's side of the table. 

"Alright," Isak says, lighting up the joint hanging from the corner of his mouth. "What's the story?"

"Okay, so Mikael got a boyfriend, Yousef, a couple of months ago," he begins, looking at Isak like he's making sure he's actually listening. "And he made Mikael stop using heroin, because, you know, it was really hurting him? He was worse off than Even. So after like a week, he was clean. Then, two weeks after that, it got too much so he started it again."

He stops talking to take a couple of swigs from his beer and a couple of puffs from his cigarette, but Isak just wants him to keep talking, so he nudges him with his foot. 

"And?"

"Shit, wait," Jonas mutters and puts the beer down on the table. "He was used to having to take alot to feel something, so he accidentally used too much."

"He overdosed?"

"Yeah. Shit, you should've seen Yousef. He never stopped crying. But yeah, Mikael woke up after just a couple of days, completely clean."

"And then?"

"Then, like three weeks later, he overdosed again, so they forced him to check in at a treatment center. He probably got out just a few days ago and he hasn't been able to get a hold of enough heroin."

"That's horrible," Isak mumbles, shaking his head, because it really is. "How's Yousef doing?"

"I don't know. I honestly think he's in some subway toilet, drugged out of his mind. The whole Mikael thing must've ruined him in some way."

Isak can't help being afraid of this happening to himself and Even. What if Even will get clean and then he won't know how much to use and he'll overdose just like Mikael did? He would never be able to handle that.

"What if Even dies?" he asks, the worry in his stomach making him feel like the weed hasn't affected him at all. "What if-, what if it'll be my fault that he dies?"

Jonas shrugs and picks his beer up again, like it doesn't matter, when it really does. It really, really does. Because if Even gets hurt, then Isak won't be able to live with himself anymore, he'll probably die himself. 

"I'm going to be honest with you," Jonas says and Isak wants to stop him right there because he doesn't want to hear his honest words, not if they'll hurt. "He will die. He's not-, he's not the kind of person who survives addiction. He's already given up. He doesn't care about anything but heroin anymore."

And if that doesn't feel like a stab in the heart, Isak doesn't know what does. Jonas saying that Even doesn't even care about him, that he only cares about drugs. Maybe it's the truth, but it's not what Isak wants to hear. He wants to hear that Even will get better for him and they'll be happy together and Isak'll never have to be afraid of him dying. 

"Why do you say those things?" he asks, biting his bottom lip so hard it feels like it's going to tear. "You can't-, Jonas, you can't say you love me and care about me and then say those things that hurt so much."

"I say those things because I love you," Jonas sighs, reaching out a hand to stroke his arm. "I don't want you to think you'll be happy with him, because he's just going to hurt you. Issy, I love you. Trust me."

The tears are welling up and he inhales as much smoke as possible to force himself to calm down, but it doesn't work, because soon, his cheeks are wet and he's storming into the apartment to hide in the bathroom. 

He sinks down on the floor and wraps a towel around himself like it's a blanket. Then he just lets himself cry. It hurts everywhere, his head's pounding and his hands are shaking and he doesn't want this. He doesn't want to be hurt, he doesn't want Even to be hurt. Everything feels so wrong. 

The tiles are too rough behind and underneath him and he wishes he was in his bed, warm and comfy under his covers and with his teddy bear in his arms, but he feels too tired to move. Like all his energy goes into crying. 

He can feel his eyes refusing to open and he's so incredibly tired, but the sobs just won't stop. Not even when Jonas lifts him from the floor and carries him to the bed and tucks him in with his teddy bear and the softest blankets he can find. 

"I love you," Jonas whispers and kisses his forehead.

"He cares about me."

"Of course he does, angel."

"Are you lying?"

Jonas doesn't answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm soo sorry for the slow updates i rly rly am haha i've just been really busy with swedish and german and geography essays but thank you for waiting i appreciate it soo much<3<3 comments mean alot to me so if you have the time and if you want to, please leave some on what you think <333


	13. Station to Station

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why don't you ever ask what people give you? That can be dangerous."
> 
> "I trust you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i rewrote this chapter three times haha that's why i updated so late, sorry <333

It's warm outside. The air is blowing into the car through the open windows, sounding like thunder because of the high speed. Isak knows his hair will be completely tangled up when they get to their destination, but it doesn't really matter because he feels so, so fuzzy and happy. 

Mikael seems to be happy, too. He has a huge smile on his face and the hair that isn't in the bun on top of his head is all over the place. It's sweet, and Isak almost feels proud of him for getting so much better than the first time they met. He hasn't used heroin for two weeks. He's been eating and sleeping properly and he's only been using methadone. Just to get through the pain, though. 

So now, Isak has a friend who isn't Jonas and who won't control him and say mean things because he 'wants to protect him'. It feels safe. He has a friend he can be with when Even and William are working until late, late at night. It's nice because Isak won't have to be alone anymore, even when Jonas is is in Switzerland to visit his grandmother, like he is now. 

They're blasting David Bowie at such a high volume that people miles away probably can hear it but who cares? Isak feels fucking cool. The streetlights are flashing by and there are neon signs everywhere and he feels like he's in New York, like in all those movies he's seen with the people who all have perfect lives and an endless amount of money. 

Now it's his turn to be the main character, the one who gets to be happy and who always ends up with the best life and the funniest friends and the hottest guy. And it feels like that's the way it is right now. 

He's on top of the world. He's screaming to the music blasting from the car radio and Mikael's laughing at him and he doesn't feel empty at all. Maybe it's the ecstasy he took right before they left, or maybe he just is genuinely happy. 

He can never really know. It's not like he means to do it, but somehow, there's always something in his system, whether it be ecstasy or oxy or alcohol, or maybe just some light painkillers. He doesn't really care, though, because Even doesn't care. He's just happy it's not heroin. 

There's always something inside him, though, making him want to try it. How can someone get addicted after just one time? They probably can't. And Isak won't, he's promised himself that. He just wants to see what Even feels like, that's all. He just wants to see what can feel so good that you have to keep doing it and doing it over and over.

No one will let him, though. No one, not William, not Mikael, not Magnus, and especially not Even, will give him any heroin. Maybe it's for the best, but it frustrates him so damn much. He knows what he's doing, he can take care of himself, he's not a baby. 

After a while, he notices that they're not driving on populated streets anymore, instead being surrounded by fields of green and yellow and bigger street lamps with patterned poles. Mikael refuses to tell him where they're going, but he guesses they're somewhere in Wilmersdorf, where he lives. He should know, but right now, it's too dark to see the surroundings properly. 

Then, he sees lots of people. Walking, running, laughing. There are never lots of people here. All the parking lots are full of cars, as well. Mikael still doesn't say anything, just keeping on driving. Until they stop. And Isak knows where they are. 

Olympiastadion. 

"Surprise!" he exclaims, and Isak has no idea what he means. "Are you not surprised?"

"What are we doing?"

Mikael shakes his head and gets out of the car, walking over to Isak's side and opening his door to drag him out. Then he points at the top of Olympiastadion and Isak's heart stops. It stops. 

"David Bowie?" he asks, looking over at Mikael for response. "Are you- fuck, are you kidding me?"

"No, it's completely serious. We thought you've been so kind to all of us so Eva bought you a ticket as well."

And since Isak is such a softie, he actually starts crying. David Bowie. They like him so much that they actually got him a ticket for David Bowie's concert. No one's ever liked that much, except for Jonas. He's always been alone.

Mikael sighs and wipes the tears away, then wraps his arms around him and hugs him. Isak has no idea what to say. He doesn't know if he's going to laugh or cry even more or maybe faint but he hugs Mikael back anyways, because god, he feels so, so happy. 

When Mikael gets tired of hugging, they let go of each other and then Isak gets dragged to the rest of the squad they're going with; Eva, William, Chris, Noora and Magnus. Apparently, Even doesn't even like Bowie that much, and it's a shame, because Isak would love to go on a concert with him. 

They walk into the big stadium together, and as soon as they get into the huge place, Isak's hands start shaking. Twenty minutes, and then he'll get to see his biggest idol. Twenty minutes, and then he'll live through the best two hours of his life. 

He can feel Chris's arm around his shoulders and it's so warm and firm that he can't help leaning against him, just to get his nerves in check. He feels like he's going to pass out right there on the dirty, yellow floor.

"Isak," Chris murmurs, rubbing his arm. "Just breathe. You'll have fun, I promise. You're sober, huh?"

"I don't know," Isak groans, his heart still feeling like it's in his throat. "I just- fuck, I don't know."

Chris nods and hands him a blue pill with a hole shaped like a V in it. "You can swallow it dry, right?" Isak swallows it without answering because even if it makes him cough and almost chokes, he just wants the stress to go away. "Why don't you ever ask what people give you? That can be dangerous."

"I trust you."

His chest rumbles with chuckles and Isak feels him kiss the back of his head before leaving to go be with Eva instead. The warmth disappears, but he feels better knowing that the pill Chris gave him probably will calm him down soon. 

He's right. In just a few minutes, the stress is completely gone and he's letting Eva drag him to the front of the local, right in front of the stage. His arms feel lax and his head is a bit blurry but it feels good anyways. 

The entire stadium goes dark and everyone starts cheering but he just can't make a sound. The bright strobe lights on the stage start flashing and he feels so, so mesmerized by all the purple, looking like crocus flowers or Even's lips after eating blueberries (or doing too much heroin).

Everything's spinning, like it does when he's drunk, but he doesn't have a single drop of alcohol in him right now. Just soda and some ecstasy and the pill Chris gave him. He feels better than he usually does, though, because he's going to see David Bowie. Fucking David Bowie.

Then, the music flows out of the speakers and Isak freezes in place because he doesn't know how to react. David Bowie is right in front of him, right there, singing his favorite songs, hypnotizing him with his voice. 

Everyone's dancing and singing along and he always thought he'd be like that as well, but he's just paralyzed. The music has taken over his brain and he's vibrating with the bass and his eyes are locked on his idol who's standing right there. Right there. 

Right in front of him. 

It's so hot in there from the friction of all the moving bodies and the smoke pouring from the machines on stage and sweat is running down Isak's forehead and he feels so good and his entire body is trembling with happiness and excitement and pure love for all of this. The atmosphere, the music, the people. 

But he can't move. He feels the same way as he does when he looks at Even when he's sleeping, when he just wants to take everything in and keep it stored in the back of his head so he won't forget it. Because he'd be so damn angry with himself if he forgot this moment. 

His entire arms are wet from all the sweat, both from himself and the people around him, but he doesn't even mind. He just imagines it as being the water from a clear lake, or a clean shower. Just a lot warmer. His hair is completely stuck to his forehead as well, but everyone else seems to have bad hair days too, so that doesn't matter either.

_It's not the side-effects of the cocaine_

_I'm thinking that it must be love_

It must be. It must be. If David Bowie says it's love, then it's love, and Isak believes him. It's not the drugs, not when he's with Even. He doesn't need ecstasy or benzedrine to feel good with him. 

_It's too late to be grateful_

And David Bowie is looking straight at him, his strange eyes boring right into his soul like industrial drills. One of his pupils is larger than the other. It makes him look like an alien, but Isak likes it, likes the weirdness of it. It makes him even more special. 

When he just won't turn his gaze away, Isak feels his lungs getting tighter and tighter. He's not used to people staring at him for so long, giving him all their attention, and especially not his biggest idol. 

_It's too late to be late again_

_It's too late to be hateful_

They finally, finally break eye contact and Isak can breathe again, but his heart is pounding so fast it feels like it's going in 180. His body is even more frozen than before because all he can think of is those damn blue eyes with uneven pupils. 

He wants to stay here forever, wants to feel the bass in his body, the blinding lights in his eyes, the smoke in his lungs, the bodies rubbing against his skin. He's probably the stillest person, but he knows he's the one who feels the most. At least that's what he thinks, because this is the most he's felt in years, together with every moment he spends with Even. 

His legs hurt from standing up for so long, because even if the time goes by quickly in his mind, his body still feels everything. It still feels every foot stepping on his toes and it feels every person bumping into him like he's just a prop. And his poor ears still feel the way too loud music.

The concert feels like it passes in just twenty minutes. Every minute and song blurs into each other and he doesn't have any perception of the time, but suddenly, they're all being escorted out of the stadium, to the dark parking lot. 

He's lost Mikael, Noora and Magnus, but he has Chris, William and Eva right next to him. Both Chris and Eva are buzzing just as much as he is, but William looks so, so exhausted and pale and sick. Isak's stomach hurts for him, because he doesn't want him to have to feel like this all the time. 

Isak can't help him because he can barely move, but Chris takes his arm and helps him sit on the railing next to them, wrapping an arm firmly around his waist. They look so soft and sweet together and it would make Isak feel want if his head wasn't only full of the music, and his mind wasn't repeating Heroes over and over. 

"Isak!" Chris calls out, snapping his fingers right in front of his face, and it's muffled in Isak's ear, but he looks up anyways, trying to focus on the boys in front of him. "Do you have money?"

"What? Oh yeah." Isak checks his pocket and pulls out a twenty-mark bill. "Is this enough?"

Chris nods, then runs off into the crowd, probably to see if he can find a dealer. Eva takes his place next to William and holds him close, softly running her hands through his hair and murmuring things against his cheek. Isak has no idea what she's saying, but she's always so nice, so it's probably something kind and comforting. 

How can someone be so addicted to heroin that they start feeling like they have the flu after just a couple of hours of not using? Isak genuinely doesn't understand, he doesn't get how amazing heroin can be for someone to give their entire life to it? 

"Isak?" Eva asks and can people stop saying his name? He doesn't want to take any responsibility, he doesn't have the energy to speak, he doesn't want to be distracted from the post-concert high. "I need to go. Can you take care of him?"

Isak sighs, but he does as she says because she just made it possible for him to go to the most amazing concert he's ever been to and he should do this for her. William flinches away as soon as he touches him, though, so he stays away, just watching him to make sure he won't fall or pass out or something. 

William almost looks worse than Mikael did a couple of weeks ago, his cheeks all sunken in and the bags under his eyes bigger and darker than ever. His hands are grasping at his own legs, like he wants to steady himself on something but he doesn't know what, so this time, Isak takes one of his hands without caring if he'll flinch away. 

"Shit," William sighs, trying to laugh it away but his voice shakes too much for it to be credible. "God, I should've had a fix right before I left. Fuck me."

Suddenly, he crouches over, letting go of Isak's hand to take a hold on his own stomach, and starts retching. It looks so painful and Isak wishes he'd throw up instead because it'd hurt less, but all he can do is rub his back and wait for Chris to come back. He sounds like he's crying, and William almost never cries. It feels incredibly uncomfortable and he looks away because he's pretty sure William doesn't him want to see him like this. 

Chris comes back in just a few minutes, with a needle and a spoon in one hand and a small ziploc bag in the other. He hands the stuff to Isak, who takes them immediately, then lifts William from the railing and lets him wrap his legs around his waist. 

"Follow me," he says, walking into the huge mess of cars and motorcycles, and Isak follows him with stumbling steps because he'll probably never learn how to keep up with these people. They stop next to a worn-down car and Chris almost throws William down on the passenger seat before walking over to the other side and sitting behind the wheel. 

Isak climbs into the tiny backseat and hands Chris the stuff. Chris doesn't even thank him, but he's probably just stressed. It sounds like the most logical reason, anyways. Isak watches the scene unraveling in front of him with fascination, because Chris is so much more steady than Even is when he does this. 

His hands don't even shake as he holds the spoon and melts the flour-like substance, and he doesn't even spill anything when he fills the syringe with it. It looks like he's done this several times before, and he probably has, when William couldn't do it himself. 

"Breathe," he says with such a soft, gentle voice that Isak almost falls for it as well, then he presses the needle against William's arm and pushes it in. "You're okay, just breathe. Tell me if you have to throw up."

William slumps back against the seat and moans against the arm slung over his face. He's breathing like he's just run a marathon and he sounds like he just had an orgasm. Maybe it feels extra good if the abstinence was horrible. 

They sit there for a while, just listening to William's breathing slowly evening out. Now that Isak can't get the buzz back, he just gets this urge to try the leftover drugs in Chris's hand. How dangerous can it be? It's not like he's going to end up like William or Even. It's one time. Mikael told him you don't get addicted after one time, anyways. 

"Chris?" he asks, tapping his shoulder. "Let me try."

"Are you stupid? Even will kill me." Chris looks at him like he just said the stupidest thing he's ever heard, and maybe it really is stupid, but still. "You can have some more valium."

"Seriously? I paid, man! At least a little part of that is mine, Chris!"

Chris sighs and starts the car, looking out through the windshield instead of at Isak. William looks at him instead and he looks so thoroughly disappointed, like Jonas used to look at him sometimes.

"Don't be stupid," he quietly says, shaking his head. "You're a smart boy."

"Fine."

He can do it on his own, anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading, you know how much your comments mean to me so if you feel like it, please leave some <3
> 
> also can you believe that sweden beat portugal today LMAO that's amazing


	14. Origo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do you ever touch yourself?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fucking ao3 man never working... anyways here's wonderwall

It's six in the morning when Isak realizes just how much Even means to him, how well he's nestled himself into every part of his life. He's the center of everything, and Isak doesn't even mind. He doesn't mind, because he gets to hug him and kiss him and cuddle with him and no one else can do that.

No one can see him like Isak's seeing him right now, asleep and vulnerable with everything completely exposed. Everything he feels in his dreams shows up on his face as smiles or frowns or tiny, tiny tears running down his temples and soaking his hair and pillow. 

Softly, Isak brushes away the hair covering his warm face and kisses his forehead, because right now, all he wants is to be close to this wonderful, amazing boy. This boy, who's been whimpering all night because 'why won't you touch me, Isak?', who's been constantly close to tears because his mind keeps telling him he's not good enough. He's actually been alot more clingy these last two weeks, since Isak came home from the concert, but it's probably nothing. Maybe he's just more tired than usual. 

He's slept for four hours, and while it's more than what he sleeps for several days sometimes, Isak really thinks he should sleep more. Especially after that little insecurity fit he had when Isak came home from the concert. 

Apparently, though, Even doesn't feel like sleeping anymore. When Isak runs a thumb over his cheek, he opens his eyes and peers up at him through his eyelashes. Isak's mind is still a bit hazy from not sleeping, but the want in Even's little whimper is so obvious, even he can hear it. 

"I'm sad," he sniffles, stretching out his arms against Isak like a tired child. "Hold me."

Isak raises his eyebrows and shakes his head, but lies down next to him anyways and pulls him into his arms. He's still warm from sleep and his eyes are still a bit swollen, and he looks like an adorable, sleepy puppy. 

His hands move underneath Isak's shirt, the cold fingers stroking his sensitive skin, making him shiver and hide under the same comforter Even's lying under. Even always acts like Isak is something frail, when they both know he's the stronger of them. They both know he's the one who checks up on Even and always tries his best to be as careful with him as possible. 

"You're beautiful, Issy," Even whispers, voice so painfully full of awe. "So beautiful everywhere. Want you to stay forever."

"I'll never leave you."

"Want you to touch me." He sounds so different compared to a couple of weeks earlier, when he refused to let Isak's hands wander too far. "Want you to think I'm beautiful."

"I do. I do. But I need you to be completely sure."

"Isak."

"Alright, c'mon, baby. Lie between my legs."

Even whips his head around to look at him with disbelieving eyes, then he gets this adorable, shy smile on his face as he tosses the blanket away and places himself between Isak's thighs and leans on his upper body. He fits so well there, like this is where he belongs, and maybe it is. Right there, with Isak. 

Both of them are tense, but Isak can feel Even pretty much trembling from excitement and happiness, and it's so cute; how much this is working him up. Isak hadn't even realized how much Even actually wants him to touch him like this. 

"We're not going to fuck," Isak says, just to reassure that Even actually knows this. "Not today."

Even nods and he still looks all happy and content, and it makes Isak feel a bit better about what he's about to do. There's this fear deep in his stomach that he'll accidentally go too far and hurt Even and he'd never want that in a million years. 

He tries to take it as slow as possible and starts with kissing his hair and holding his hands because this is what they always do, this is what always feels so comforting, and he wants Even to be at ease for this. 

"Love you," Isak murmurs, feeling all shaky and nervous because god, he's never done this to anyone but himself before. "I don't know what to do, Even, help me."

"Just do what you do with yourself, just-, Isak, don't stress."

Isak nods and moves one of his hands to cover Even's hipbone, letting his fingers pull up the hem of his shirt to reveal beautiful, creamy skin. It has an abnormal color, like it always does, and even if it's green and almost completely faded, it still makes his throat feel a little bit tighter. 

He never does things like this to himself because it feels like it's not worth it, but he feels like he can lie here and just feel Even's body under his hands for hours and it would be worth every minute. Especially when Even's breathing gets heavier and he slumps and goes all soft in Isak's arms, like holding himself up takes him too much energy. 

"So good to me," Even sighs, sounding so turned on and needy that Isak starts getting hard against Even's back. "So kind."

The hand that's not under Even's shirt starts playing around the waistline of his sweatpants instead, dipping under or rubbing the skin around it. He's wearing Isak's underwear, noticeable from how they're a little bit too loose over his way too thin legs and waist, but it's so precious and Isak will always love Even wearing his clothes. 

Isak can barely believe how much he gets off on having Even like this, and it feels sick because this boy is so broken and soft and he'd give anything to please the people around him and it feels like Isak is using that. He just loves to touch, that's all. He loves to feel Even's heartbeat against his chest, his hair against his face, his trembling thighs under his fingertips. 

Even's lifting his head up, turning his neck to kiss him, like he's drowning and Isak's the air he needs to survive. It looks too uncomfortable for him, though, so Isak pulls away and uses one of his hands to push Even's head back against his chest and starts running his fingers through his hair. 

Slowly, he lets his right hand slide under Even's pants completely, finally being able to touch the warm, smooth skin that always is covered. It almost makes his eyes well up because fuck, he wants to always have him like this. He's so vulnerable and open for Isak to take everything from him. 

The peacefulness feels like a lid over them, making everything silent and slow and letting Isak take his time with rubbing circles against Even's inner thigh and brushing out the knots in his hair. His hands have never been this gentle before, not even with Even, because right now, his heart is thudding with fear of hurting this wonderful, amazing boy. 

"More," Even whispers, slipping further and further into inevitable submission. "Isak, more, please, I-"

"Shh, baby," Isak soothes and starts massaging his scalp to make him relax. "Patience."

When Even's relaxed again, half his face nuzzled against Isak's chest, he lets the hand in his sweats go further, softly brushing against the hardness in his boxers. There's a tiny wet spot on them, showing just how much this is affecting Even and how fast it's going. Poor baby must've wanted this since forever. 

He's so, so hard and Isak knows the feeling because it's not like this is affecting him any less. His stomach feels like it's full of butterflies and everytime Even makes one of those tiny sounds whenever he feels extra good, the butterflies start flying around like crazy. At least they're good butterflies, and not the ones he feels whenever Even does heroin.

It feels like his hands never will stop shaking by now. He's not even feeling that nervous anymore, but Even's so fragile. He's so bruised and he's hurting all over and what if Isak just makes it worse? What if he creates new bruises, or makes him cry, or gets way too rough with him?

"Baby boy," Isak murmurs, and Even's humming against his T-shirt, nodding and rocking slightly against Isak's hand. "Is this for me, huh? Did I make you this hard? My beautiful boy. My love."

Jerking himself, or someone else off is pure muscle memory, but all of this? All of this takes thought, because he doesn't know if what he's doing is right or not. He doesn't know how light his caresses should be, or how rough he can be when he's trying to untangle Even's hair. It's difficult, but he'll take the challenge anyday because of the way Even's reacting to all of it, grasping at Isak's arms and whining like he's never been this desperate before.

He squeezes and lets his fingers run over Even's bulge and god, this is the horniest he's been since he accidentally caught Jonas masturbating in the shower. After that, he locked himself in the other bathroom and jerked off until he'd come three times. What he's doing now is so much more intense, though, because he's the one making Even feel good, instead of Jonas making himself feel good. He's the one forcing out those beautiful moans and small shivers.

When his hand moves under his boxers as well, Even's hips lift from the bed and he gasps breathily before biting his bottom lip and relaxing again. He looks up at Isak, looking so upset with himself, then throws his head back against his chest.

"Sorry," he mumbles, pouting like he's trying not to cry. "I didn't mean to."

"You're allowed to do whatever you want, sweetheart. You can move as much as you want or make as many noises as you need. It's alright."

Even nods, but he still looks extremely guilty, like he just told Isak he took all of his money. It doesn't matter, though, because Isak's going to make him feel so good in just a couple of minutes. He runs his thumb over the head of Even's cock, feeling that warm wetness on his skin, and it almost makes him moan just as loud as Even. Fuck, all of this is so hot. His body, his sounds, his reactions. Isak wants this to go on forever.

Then, he just does what he always does to himself. He wraps his fingers around Even's hard cock, firmly but not too tight, and starts stroking. He soon realizes that it's way too dry, though, and he spits in his hand before keeping on going. 

His other hand moves away from Even's hair and instead it goes underneath Even's sweats and underwear as well. While his right hand continues steadily stroking Even, his left hand rubs circles on the head, making Even pretty much cry out, the sound getting muffled by Isak's chest.

"Do you ever touch yourself?" Isak asks and Even shakes his head in response, being too busy with trying to breathe to answer properly. "Why not, baby? Don't you want to feel good?" This time, Even nods, but he's still hiding in Isak's shirt.

"Hate-, hate my body," he whimpers, one of his hands going up to pull at Isak's hair. "Can't do it. C-can't touch myself."

"I'll do it for you then, love. I'll make you feel so good, I promise."

His left hand inches down Even's cock, then down to his balls and underneath them, to his perineum. Isak knows exactly how good it feels to be touched there and he wants to share it with Even, because honestly, the first time he pressed down on that spot while masturbating, he came so hard he almost blacked out.

"You feel that?" he murmurs against Even's messy but smooth hair. "That's your prostate. You can feel it from the outside if your hole is too sore."

Even lets out a high-pitched hum, this time letting himself move against Isak's hands, like he's realized that he actually is allowed to feel good and he doesn't exist just to make others feel good. Soon, tears are soaking Isak's shirt and Even's moans are mixed with sobs and hiccups. God, Isak knew this would be too much for him. As soon as he stops, though, Even sobs even louder and frantically shakes his head until Isak starts going again.

"I'm so close," he whimpers, those huge eyes looking up at Isak, pleading for him to never stop again. "Isak, I'm going to-"

"I know, baby. I can feel that."

He rubs tiny motions under Even's balls with his index-, and middle finger, and Even's practically thrashing around in his arms, like it's too much for him to handle. Every sound coming from him is so squeaky and broken and he sounds like he's going to fall apart at any second, like Isak is the only thing holding him together by now.

Isak's painfully hard, desperate to get off, but he doesn't want Even to know. He's fully aware of how guilty he'll feel if he finds out and he doesn't want to see his eyes full of tears again. Instead, he just keeps going, trying to push his boy over the edge.

He's just waiting for someone to come home and interrupt them, because this would be the worst time. Even would be so ashamed and embarrassed if William saw him like this, all wrecked and flushed and moaning like there's no tomorrow. 

"Isak," he sobs, grabbing the blanket next to them to press it against his face, crying against that instead of Isak's chest. "Isak, Isak, please."

"Come on, baby boy. Come for me. Be good and come for me."

And since Even would do almost anything for Isak, he does as he says. His voice freezes in a silent scream and his thighs tense up as he comes all over Isak's hand. It's so hot and so sweet at the same time because finally, he doesn't seem ashamed of his body anymore. Finally, he seems to trust Isak. 

"God, you're so beautiful," Isak sighs, but Even doesn't seem to hear him, though, way too deep in his thoughts. "You with me, honey? Are you here?"

Even curls in on himself and tries to cuddle up with Isak, completely hidden under one of the blankets now. He's breathing so harshly and he's all boneless in Isak's arms, like he is after sleeping for an entire night or using just the right amount of heroin. 

"Wanna sleep now," he whispers, not thinking of showering or even taking off the dirty boxers. "So tired."

"You don't need a fix?"

"Noo." His head pokes up from the blanket wrap, looking so drowsy and flushed and shattered. "Need a kiss."

God, Isak loves this boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hate this story i want to strangle myself can someone just delete it for me
> 
> but u know thanks for reading as usual haha thank you for not getting tired of me, comments make me so so happy so please leave one of those if you feel like it <3<3


	15. Paper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You okay?" the guy asks, his voice all trembly just like Even's, and it makes Isak's heart ache even more. "Breathe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is embarrassing but both this and the last chapter are named by eurovision songs but they're great you should listen to them haha they're origo - pápai joci and paper - svala

"I'm out of heroin," Even mumbles, running his fingers over the needle marks on his left arm, his eyes half-closed like he's still sleeping. "I don't have any money."

"Haven't you been working?" Isak asks, and he really doesn't mean to be condescending but Even looks so sad anyway, like he's done something wrong. "I mean-, you know, not that you have to. I was just wondering."

Even shakes his head, biting his bottom lip. He looks like there's so much to say but he doesn't how to say it and Isak understands, he really does. So he waits for him to find the words, just lies there next to him and kisses his cheek and runs his fingers over his stomach. 

His pretty baby. He's still unsteady, his thighs still tensing and his hands trembling, even after sleeping for one more hour. After coming down from his high, he cried for thirty minutes because he was so overwhelmed, and he refused to let go of Isak until he fell asleep.

"I haven't worked since the concert," he says quietly, taking one of Isak's hands and leading it to his face, making him stroke his cheek instead of his stomach. "I've been crying so much and my head feels like it's going to explode all the time and I just feel like you're going to leave me if you find out and-"

"I'm not leaving you, baby." It's just a hushed whisper, but Even seems to hear it anyways because he looks up at Isak with some sort of hope in his welled up eyes. "Tell me what's going on."

Even doesn't answer, not until he's managed to fight off all the tears threatening to spill over. "I need heroin so much." 

"Why haven't you been working?"

"Isak, please, I need heroin, I can't-"

God, he looks so upset. He looks so scared, like a bunny being chased by a wolf. Like he thinks Isak's going to hurt him, when that's the last thing he'd ever do. Maybe it's because he just let down his guard in front of him, because he let him touch him where the bad men keep hurting him. 

He's almost hyperventilating and Isak feels like he's going to panic because what's he supposed to do if Even slips into a full blown anxiety attack like Jonas always did when they were little? Where he couldn't breathe or stand up or talk and Isak kept panicking with him?

No way. He's not letting that happen. 

"Alright, alright, baby. Who's your dealer?"

He'll have to deal with Even's fears later. 

-

His dealer is Benjamin, and he looks fucking terrifying. He has a huge scar, lining from his left eyebrow to the right side of his chin, and he's even taller than Even. He looks like he wants to kill Isak with his bare hands, and he probably could. He probably has done it to someone else before. 

They're standing in a corner of the station, the one that's always empty because everyone pours out their leftover beer there. No one will see what happens if the Benjamin guy hurts him, no one will be able to help him. 

The rain's pouring outside and his clothes are sticking to his body like he's drenched in sweat and he really, really needs to get undressed. Not here, though, not when the scariest guy he's ever seen is right next to him. 

"60 Mark," the guy says, and Isak really doesn't mind the price because he took the money from his mother's wallet and he can waste them as he wants. Plus, it's for Even. "Is this your first time?"

"It's not for me," he says, but his voice is almost completely silent, so he repeats it. "It's not for me. It's for my-, my friend."

"Do I know him?"

"It's Even."

Benjamin raises his eyebrows, then nods understandingly and takes out a slightly bigger bag than he probably intended to give Isak from his pocket. He looks a bit sad, as well, and the emotion just doesn't fit well on his facial features. It looks misplaced. His eyes are too dark and his eyebrows are too furrowed and the sadness is mixed with sharp anger.

"Do you know what happened?" Isak asks, and Benjamin sighs. 

"I was there. He bled all over my jeans. Then he threw up on my shirt."

And that makes Isak feel so, so incredibly sick. His stomach turns and he feels like he's caught the flu or something, like he's going to throw up at any second. Even's been hurt. Physically hurt. So hurt that he's needed to heal. He was bleeding, someone probably beat him up while doing unspeakable, terrible things to him. 

He can't breathe. He feels sick when Benjamin rubs his arm and he feels even worse when he hands him the heroin and two needles to go with it and he starts crying when he leaves to go to his other buyers because Isak doesn't know how to handle this. He doesn't want to touch Even ever again because he's just making it worse and worse and worse and in the end, Even will have nightmares about him.

What if he's the abuser now? His father fucked him up so much that he's the same as him now and he's going to hurt Even, he's going to make him more traumatized than he already is. Fuck, he can't breathe. The bile is rising in his throat but he can't throw up on the street but he really, really needs to throw up. 

So he runs. He runs, like he always does, but he has a destination this time and the destination is one of the toilet stalls in the station. The dirty, yellow, stained toilet stalls Isak never would go to voluntarily but he has to because he's never felt this sick in his entire life. 

He barely has the time to open the toilet lid before he's hurling into the bowl, the entire content of his stomach suddenly splashing over the white and brown porcelain and the yellow walls. It's gross and it's the worst thing ever but he can't stop it now. 

It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts and his mind is full of pictures of Even bleeding and crying and shaking and when he stops throwing up, he can feel salty tears slipping into his mouth. He knows he's on the edge of a breakdown, like he was the night his father threw him down the stairs, or when he left Isak and his family. When he cried and sobbed until his head pounded and he fell asleep in a pool of tears and his pants soaked with pee because he didn't have the energy to go to the toilet. 

He wants Jonas again. He's coming back in two days but he misses him so much because he's the only one who can calm him down, even if he yells at him and tells him things he never wants to hear. He doesn't want to go home to Even because he'll only hurt him more and he won't be able to take care of him because the only thing he'll be able to do is imagine him being so, so hurt by a couple of strangers. 

There's a hand stroking his back, warm but unsteady, and he has no idea whose it is. It's too small to be Benjamin's and who else is here? It feels like Jonas's hand but less comforting, although it makes him breathe a bit more easily. It's a guy's hand, he can feel that much, but not more because his thoughts are so loud and he's still dry heaving like his body thinks there's more to throw up when he's completely empty already. 

"You okay?" the guy asks, his voice all trembly just like Even's, and it makes Isak's heart ache even more. "Breathe."

Isak uses all of the power left in his body to push away from the toilet and lean back against the wall next to him. His legs are shaking like crazy and he can't grip anything because his hands are lying limp at his sides, but at least the guy in front of him is stroking his hair and cheeks, trying to calm him down, and he must be an angel because he's one of the prettiest boys Isak's ever seen. 

His eyes look like gold, this shining brown color, and his hair is darker than the night sky and it looks softer than the blanket Isak couldn't sleep without until he was twelve. He's wearing all black; black shoes, black T-shirt, black jeans, and it looks good even if it looks kind of boring. He looks so sad, though, and Isak hates it because he's tired of everyone being upset all the time.

"What happened?" He sounds like Isak's going to break if he speaks too loudly, like the adults in school when he started crying in the middle of class. "Did anyone hurt you?"

The guy has needle marks all over his arms, purple and angry red, but no bruises. Maybe he's rich, maybe he doesn't have to sell himself. That's nice. Isak can't be happy for him, though, because he feels like he's going to throw up soon again and tears are still streaming down his cold cheeks. 

"My boyfriend's hurt," he whispers, playing with the tiny ziploc bag in his pocket. His heart's racing at the same time it feels like it'll stop and he feels so broken when he sees the guy's too caring eyes. "I need your help."

When he takes out the bag, the guy sighs but nods, bringing out his own lighter and spoon. His hands are all unsteady and Isak's afraid he'll drop the expensive powder, but it's not like he'd do it any better. He'd probably fuck it all up. He doesn't even have a lighter. 

Even would kill him if he saw him like this. He'd punch him in the face, probably. Isak doesn't even care. He feels so exhausted and he never wants to go home and he doesn't know if it's because he's scared of hurting Even more or if it's because he can't handle taking care of him anymore. 

"Tell me your name," the guy whispers while shakily pouring the fluid into the syringe.

"It's-, it's Isak."

"I'm Yousef." He's sure he recognizes it, sure one of his friends has mentioned Yousef before, but then that warm hand is gripping his arm and he throws his head back against the wall because if he looks at Yousef for one more second, he'll hide in his arms and cry for three hours. "You've never done it before. I can't help you, I can't do this to you. Look at me. I can't do this to you."

"You just want it for yourself. Fuck you."

"It's going to ruin your life. Isak, it'll kill you."

"Please. Please, please, I'm going to kill myself. Help me, please."

It's an exaggeration but it's the only thing he can feel right now, he can't imagine being happy ever again and he doesn't understand why because he's not the one who's hurt, he's not the one who spent an entire evening bleeding and throwing up because someone raped him. And Even will never be happy with him. He'll never go to Switzerland and eat carrot cake with him and he'll never take care of him and he'll always be broken and Isak's nor sure he can take it. 

Yousef nods, but his hands are shaking more than before as they try to steady Isak's arm to press the needle in. There are so much people in the other stalls, he can hear it, but he's so caught up in the sound of his own heartbeat and Yousef's breathing and the blood rushing in his ears. 

His entire body tenses when the sharp edge goes through his skin and he can barely breathe and his stomach sinks in disappointment because why can't he feel anything, why is he still feeling this awful pain, why can't he-

Then he's dry heaving so violently, he almost falls over. His body's telling him to throw up, but everything's already out and it hurts so, so bad. He's holding onto Yousef like he's afraid he's going to die if he lets go but that's because he is. He's terrified this is how he's going to die, in a gross toilet stall with a syringe stuck in his arm and without someone who loves him.

After it passes, there's just this pleasure left. His arm's tingling and his body feels like it's sparkling somehow and his thighs are trembling like during an orgasm and everything's so good. Everything's okay and Even's not traumatized anymore and he doesn't miss Jonas because it feels like he doesn't even need him anymore. 

His body's all warm now, like it's been wrapped in a soft, thick blanket, and Yousef's shoulders are fluffy pillows instead of sharp edges. He's so warm, so comforting next to him, making Isak feel like he's just been tucked in next to Even, content and happy. God, is he supposed to be this sleepy?

He feels like he did those nights his dad didn't come home at night and he felt so safe with his mom and his little sister, where everything was okay and he felt like he never could get hurt again. Where his mom sang lullabies to him and rocked him to sleep. 

"Sing to me," he slurs against Yousef's chest, suddenly all slouched over and limp. "So tired, 's so good."

When he was eleven, he went to the mountains in Italy with Jonas and Jonas's mom. They spent their days in a cabin, warming themselves with the open fire and hot chocolate and refusing to step on anything but the white furs on the floor. It's the same feeling now. The same, comfy, sleepy feeling, but a thousand times better. 

Yousef's singing to him with his hushed voice, some turkish song Isak doesn't recognize, while slowly rocking him, like he's a little baby. Isak doesn't even bother to act like it isn't comforting, because it's lulling him to sleep faster than anything's ever done before. Maybe it's the heroin, but a part of it is probably because Yousef's handling him like he's porcelain. 

It's love. It's love and happiness and warmth and softness and kindness and beauty. The yellow walls in front of him are bright, they're yellow like the sun and not like his mom's teeth, they're yellow like buttercups and not like Even's skin after doing too much heroin. 

"Isak," Yousef whispers, and Isak's sure his arms are small duvets and his body is a tiny bed. "You're allowed to sleep. I'm going to leave soon but you're safe."

"Okay," Isak hums, curling up to Yousef's side as well as his lax body allows him to do. "Night."

His eyelids are drooping and his eyes hurt when he tries to keep them open, so he just lets them stay shut instead because he wouldn't mind falling asleep, wouldn't mind it at all actually. He can stay here forever, in a smelling, stained toilet stall, as long as he gets to feel like this. As long as he gets to always be this fuzzy and pleased and his mind gets to be this empty. 

"I fucked up," he can hear Yousef mumble. "I fucked up, fuck. Shit."

Isak doesn't care at all. The fluffy cloud is taking over his brain until not a single thought fits in there and soon, he's surrounded by fuzzy cotton and Yousef's prominent heartbeat.

Then there's just black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> but thank you!! so much!! for reading!! as always i hope you like it, i love your comments so please leave one of those if you feel like it <3<3


	16. Offshore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He needs his boyfriend, too. He needs to hold him, make him feel okay, know he's safe, make sure he's not crying and shaking from withdrawal. There's no heroin left, though, because he fucked up, he ruined everything, he took what was supposed to be Even's, he felt good for a few hours. God, he doesn't even know what time it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just to clear everything up for u, i deleted a couple of the chapters and if you want things to be a bit clearer, read the last chapter to get up to speed!! the whole plot with william is gone and in this chapter, isak's just done heroin and is now trying to get new shit for even  
> hope u like it <3

When he wakes up, Yousef's still there, holding him like he's a baby who can't sit on its own. Maybe he can't. He tries, and no, he cannot sit up by himself, so he leans back on Yousef and shuts his eyes to close out the clinical lighting and the white blinking taking over his entire sight. Yousef's warm, not soft with his prominent ribs, but still comfy to be held by because he's so gentle, just like Jonas.

"You stayed," Isak whispers, his right hand moving over Yousef's chest to make sure he's still there, he's not just a figment of his imagination. "Thank you."

And his mind is still blurry and he still has that nice kind of exhaustion in his body that makes it hard for him to listen to anything, but he still hears a quiet; "Had to make sure you'd wake up again."

Isak huffs out a puff of air in what he intended to be a laugh, then curls up closer to the boy he just met to savor all the warmth until they have to leave each other and Isak will have to handle all his obligations (usually, it would make him guilty to think of helping Even as an obligation, but right now, he doesn't have any control of his thoughts). He decides to relax for as long as possible, though, until all the heroin's worn off and Yousef's left.

There's a small hint of nausea in his throat, but he's used to that by now. Besides from that, he feels ethereal. His head isn't pounding anymore and his eyes aren't tearing up just from the thought of Even and his chest isn't aching from fear and worry. He's just drained from all energy, feeling like the mornings where he had to wake up early for school except that he's feeling way better yet way more tired right now.

"I need to leave," Yousef murmurs, stroking Isak's hair to make the hit of his words a little bit gentler. "And you need to take care of your hurt boyfriend."

"I do," Isak agrees, nuzzling closer to Yousef like he doesn't understand the importance of his own words. "I need to take care of him. Need to get him some heroin. Have no money, though."

"You used the heroin that was meant for him, hm?" Isak nods, feels a little bit of shame in the pit of his stomach, but he pushes it away. He'll work it out. "Been there, done that."

Isak hums, feeling a little bit comforted because he's not alone in this, he's not the only one who's messed up, who's hurt the one he loves the most, who's left his boyfriend in withdrawal because he was selfish. Yousef's done it too, and maybe he's messed up now as well, but Isak won't ruin his own life. He won't get messed up because he's in control and he has to stay healthy for Even. And for Jonas. Jonas, who'd probably die for him if he let him. 

"I was just sad," he says, this time a whisper against Yousef's neck. "I didn't mean to. Felt good, though."

"I know." They sit there in silence for a while, Yousef drawing invisible patterns on Isak's skin with his index finger and Isak just breathing, slowly opening and closing his eyes, wondering if he's going to feel this light forever or if he'll crash soon. "I don't know if my boyfriend's still alive. Haven't seen him in so long. He was really messed up."

"My boyfriend is, too. But he's alive. Just alone. I should be with him."

"You should. You need to keep him safe. You-, it's hard to know when you'll lose him. Go."

Isak whines deep in his throat, but pushes himself up from where he's sitting anyways. His legs are too weak, though, and he has to sit down on the toilet instead until he's gathered enough willpower to actually stand up. Yousef's completely slumped over now, looking like he's crying, and Isak wants to help him but he doesn't know how to. He never knows what to say. 

"Take care of yourself," he says, runs his hands through Yousef's greasy hair, then walks out of the stall with wobbly legs. His arm's aching, right where the syringe was pushed in, but the rest of his body feels all relaxed, exhausted and unsteady.

"I need my boyfriend," he hears Yousef slur, then Isak's out of the toilets, shutting out his voice and the disgusting smell he'd gotten used to. 

He needs his boyfriend, too. He needs to hold him, make him feel okay, know he's safe, make sure he's not crying and shaking from withdrawal. There's no heroin left, though, because he fucked up, he ruined everything, he took what was supposed to be Even's, he felt good for a few hours. God, he doesn't even know what time it is. 

The clock next to the stairs says it's 6 PM, but the one with the train schedule says 7, and he truly, truly hopes the first one is the one that's right because otherwise, he would've left Even alone for too long. Benjamin's standing in the same place he did before, in one of the corners of the station with a cigarette in his right hand and the other hand in his pocket. 

As quickly as possible without falling over, Isak makes his way over to Benjamin, almost getting down on his knees in front of him to beg him to please give him some heroin for free, please help, he needs to help Even, he needs to make sure he's not hurting because he's his baby boy. 

"You again?" Benjamin asks, without any malicious intent at all, just genuinely wondering. "Did you lose it?" 

"Yeah," Isak whispers, but Benjamin just laughs, his eyes telling him he knows he's lying, paired with his raised eyebrows and small smirk. "Lost it. Need more."

"As much as before? Or more?" Isak nods, agreeing with anything as long as it means he gets to help Even at least a little bit. "Alright. 80 Mark."

"No," Isak mumbles, looking down at the ground, almost feeling the rush coming off. "I have no money. I'll pay you tomorrow, I swear. I'll pay you sometime else. I have no money."

"Darling," Benjamin says, and he still doesn't sound angry, just like Isak's a small baby who doesn't understand anything. "I need money. This shit's expensive and I don't know you well enough to trust you. Go get money and I'll hook you up."

And Isak's not a baby, he's not sensitive or anything, but the tears still well up because he doesn't have the time for this, how is he supposed to get money when he just wants to get home to his baby and give him his heroin and cuddle him until he falls asleep.

"Where?" he asks, quickly wiping his eyes before the tears start running, before he won't be able to stop it. "My mom's wallet is empty and I don't have any money and neither does Even and-"

"Where do you think all the boys here get their money? Go to Jebensstraße and you'll get enough money, I promise. You're pretty. They'll pay alot for you."

Isak looks back up at Benjamin, swallowing harshly and nodding. There's some spinning starting in his head again, like it always does when he's upset and doesn't know how to handle things, but he decides on doing what Benjamin told him to because he needs the money. 

There's a thousand thoughts whirling around in his head as he starts walking towards the exit leading him to Jebensstraße. He doesn't want anyone to touch him. He doesn't want a stranger's hands on him when Even hasn't even touched him like that yet, but he needs the money. 

His legs tremble even more when he gets out of the station and sees all the guys sitting on the ground, leaning against the yellow brick wall with their eyes closed and their skin almost grey. Just like Even. They look like they're hurting, like they're dying so slowly that they don't notice until it's too late. 

Car after car pulls up and every car door opens to let a boy in, boys younger than Isak, who do this like they're used to it, and they probably are, this being the only way for them to get money so they can survive. Isak's heart hurts when he realizes that Even's been like this for more than four years, has probably opened more than a thousand car doors to earn the money he needs to live. 

He walks until he gets to the edge of the pavement and then, he just waits, with his hands in his pockets and his eyes glued to the ground. He doesn't want to see any cars approach him, secretly hopes no one will want him because he's too ugly or too boring. 

A red Audi pulls up next to him and he wants to run away, hide in a corner with his jacket covering his head, but he stays, smiles, looks at the old man in the driver's seat. He looks like a typical office worker; pale, a bit fat, receding hairline, but his suit's all stained like he doesn't know how to wash his clothes. 

"Hello, there," the man says, raising his eyebrows at Isak with a wicked smile on his face. "You free?" Isak nods, and the man smiles even more. "How much do you charge?"

Isak hesitates for a second, scanning the man to see what would be reasonable. "150 Mark for a handjob," he says, deciding that if it's too unreasonable, he can lower it. 

"150? No way. That's a blowjob. I'll pay 100."

Isak nods, too nervous to say anything, really, and opens the car door to climb in next to the stranger. It smells like sweat and old car and vanilla Wunderbaum and the stranger's hands on his arms are all clammy and uncomfortably hot. He wants to run, hide, curl in on himself with ten blankets and Even right next to him. 

"What's your name?" Isak asks too softly for his own liking, not even looking at the guy because he honestly feels too disgusted with himself to let himself get eye contact with him. The man next to him raises his eyebrows and drives a bit further away before turning to look at him. 

"Just call me John," he says. Isak just nods and swallows, feeling his heart race when he hears John's belt get unbuckled and then his fly get unzipped. He can't even see anything because there's just white, bright lights flashing like he's going to pass out. Maybe it's for the better, because he won't have to see the man next to him. "C'mon, darling. I don't have all day."

Isak reaches out a hand towards the man, who immediately grabs it and places it on his crotch and Isak's so fucking close to crying already. His heart's pounding in his throat and his eyes are stinging and the guilt that always is there, right under the surface, is really making itself obvious right now. 

The only person he's ever touched like this is Even, and that was once. His second time ever doing this is with an old, ugly man who gets off on using young boys. Jonas would be so disappointed. He wouldn't even yell at him, he'd just look at him with these big, sad eyes, and take care of him by tucking him in and feeding him, and then, two hours later, he'd cry himself to sleep. 

"Fuck," John groans, making Isak let out a soft whimper in fear because he hates this so much, but the guy seems to misunderstand it, coming closer until his lips are pressed against Isak's hair and his body's close, too close to him. "You like that, huh? Bet you'd love me fucking you. Maybe something for our next time?"

"Maybe," Isak whispers, his hand moving on autopilot by now and his breath laboured from him trying so hard to calm himself down so he won't have a panic attack. It's the last thing he'd need right now. He just wants the guy to come so he can have his money, get the heroin for Even, and leave as soon as possible. 

"You're so tiny, though," the guy continues between grunts, his hips jerking up into Isak's trembling hand. "Probably the tightest little hole. I don't think I'd fit in there." Isak's entire body just flushes in shame, but he stays quiet and just hides his face in his arm to push the fear away. 

He's not even that tiny. Sure, Jonas and Even are taller than him but he's still growing, maybe he's not eating too well but he can grow both taller and stronger and. Fuck, he doesn't know why he's thinking of this right now. The guy's talking about fucking tearing him and all he can think about is that he's not very tall. 

Suddenly, he feels a big hand on his thigh, rubbing, slowly getting closer to his groin and this is so wrong, so disgusting. It takes all his willpower not to cry and run away, so he stays right there, letting the man do anything to him because he's paying him and Isak's never needed money as badly as he does now.

"God, I want to fuck you," John groans, voice so much rougher than before and Isak prays it's because he's going to come soon. "Would ruin your little body, come all over you. Make you cry and beg for me to slow down. Fuck- you'd look so-, so fucking dirty."

Isak tunes out his voice and tries to focus on his breathing only. In. Out. In. Out. Don't cry, don't scream, don't panic. Just breathe in. And out. It feels like it goes on forever, like he keeps choking on the thick air in the car for hours, even if it's just for about ten minutes. The voice next to him never ends, telling him what a whore he is, how good he would look all fucked out, how loud he'd scream for him, until it finally ends for a few seconds. 

Then, there's a loud moan and a hand right on his crotch and the guy's coming all over Isak's hand and his own shirt. Isak honestly feels like he's going to throw up right now. As soon as he has permission to let go of the guy's dick, he grabs a few tissues from the glove box and wipes away everything before his gag reflex ruins everything for him. 

"My money," Isak whispers and stretches out the same, dirty hand. The guy, John, nods and searches through his pocket for a few seconds before handing him a 100 Mark bill and then shooing him away. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, baby."

Isak leaves the car with wet eyes, red cheeks, and a burning conscience. He just hopes it's worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i've been off for a while i know but now i've listened a bit to lil kleine and i feel inspired again lol  
> please leave comments and kudos if u liked <3<3<3

**Author's Note:**

> ily guys


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